Mirror Images
by morgana07
Summary: Part of my Shadows Past series. With Dean sick, Sam receives a call that sends him off on his own to confront a threat to both his life & those he loves but not all is what it appears. Hurt!Angst!Drama all around. Full Summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Mirror Images**

**Summary:** _A part of my Shadows Past series. When Morgan opens her door to Dean Winchester one day during a quest for a witch, she isn't expecting the cold, gruff man that would soon threaten the lives of two of the most important people in her life: Sam and Dean. But not all is as it appears when it soon becomes clear that other characters are working their own angles._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the boys or anything related to the world that Supernatural is. Any original characters belong to me._

**Warnings: **_Some violence, nothing graphic. Mentions of events up to right after Swap Meat though I try to keep any spoilers light._

**Ratings: **_T for language and violence._

**Pairings: **_No slash, some minor romance._

**Tags: **_This happens after Swap Meat S5/E14_

**A/N:** _Not sure where this little plot bunny came from. This is Season 5 and after watching some early S5 last night this came to me and I wondered what if the Dean from 2014 paid a visit to do the only thing that he believes will save his timeline._

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

**Chapter One**

**16 Miles Outside Salem, Massachusetts, Present:**

"Morgan!" the crashing sound of the door echoed throughout the older Victorian era home after a shotgun took the lock off.

Realizing that stealth probably would have been a better plan in hindsight, he wasn't in the mood for caution or stealth. He'd driven sixteen hours, a record speed setting drive, from South Dakota after a simple telephone call had both confused and terrified him.

Leaving his fevered brother, who had come down with a cold, back with Bobby, he'd ignored the implied threat and obvious trap and come by himself because he'd rather face the danger than leave a friend in danger. A friend who had clearly always been there for him and his brother.

Leveling the shotgun, he slowly went room by room in search of both the young British woman and the supposed threat but found nothing. "Damn it," he muttered, looking up the stairs with a frown.

He'd been hoping the search wouldn't lead him to the second floor. Too many implications and too many places for a foe to hide.

Climbing the steps with as much caution as he was willing to use right then, the young hunter's eyes roamed the many closed doors and considered. A normal foe, human or demon, would probably go for the least suspicious room in the supposed haunted house but his gut told him this wouldn't be the case today.

Deciding to cut down on time and eliminate the most obvious possibility, he headed directly for what had been the master bedroom and what he was sure his friend would be using for data central since he highly doubted she'd use it for an actual place to sleep.

Touching the knob, he finally slowed down. Taking a deep breath, he eased open the door with his foot but was careful to keep the shotgun in a tight grip as he peered into the room.

From his limited view, he caught site of what he'd expected to find. Books, maps, files, and papers strewn all over the place but not from a fight as most would have expected. He knew that while Morgan Harrison was a diligent person and very methodical, her researching methods left a lot to be desired and…

"Oh, shit." he breathed when the door opened more and his gaze landed on the high-backed chair that was placed right where anyone coming in the door could see and his first sight was of his friend tied to that very chair.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself and keep from charging headlong into what was clearly the worlds most obvious trap, he knocked the door back sharply to ensure that if anyone was waiting behind it for him to enter that they'd at least be stunned. Not hearing the expected sound of wood meeting flesh, he kept both his eyes and his weapon trained and moving as he stepped into the room; making a through sweep of the room before deciding it was safe enough to turn his full attention to his friend.

"Morgan?" quickly he knelt down in front of the chair and immediately didn't like the unresponsive state she was in or the thin line of blood that trailed from her scalp and he especially did not care for the bruise on her face or the blood he found after carefully tilting the young woman's head up. "Damn it, what the hell happened?" he asked of the room in general, sliding a gentle hand down her neck to feel for a pulse and found it beating a bit erratically. "It's alright, I'm here and we're getting outta here," he promised, hating that he had to set his weapon aside but needing both hands to cut her free.

Senses on hyper, he was making quick work on the ropes when he felt the first sign of movement under his fingers. "Sshh, almost done," he murmured, knowing that his voice wouldn't get through to her. For the first time he doubted his choice to leave his brother behind in South Dakota. A sound from the hall made him curse and whirl to a standing position in a heartbeat, knife held ready but felt his breath catch and his heart trip as he came face to face with Morgan's attacker…the person whose voice had brought him here alone.

"Hey, Sammy, Long time no see, little brother," Dean Winchester coolly aimed the submachine gun, while stepping into the room and effectively blocking any escape.

"Dean," Sam whispered, staring at the man in front of him but put himself between his 'brother' and Morgan because if Sam was sure of one thing it was that he had left his older brother back at Bobby's and this sure as hell wasn't his brother.

**48 hours earlier:**

"What the bloody hell do you mean some geek-boy nerdy teenage wannabe witch, warlock, sorcerer or whatever terminology you want to use with delusions of grandeur boby-swapped my Sammy? Where the hell was his brother…or _you_ for that matter?" throwing a folder of useless files onto the rickety table set up in the middle of the former living room, Morgan Harrison felt like choking someone. She just couldn't decide if it should be her so-called mystic or Dean Winchester.

As Jack MacShayne carefully chose his reply to that over the phone, Morgan felt the mild headache she'd had all week go up another notch with the answer. "Oh, good God," she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose while muttering under her breath. "A simple spirit…they can't even go look into a damn simple vengeful spirit without running into issues. Where are they now?" looking around the Victorian house one of her local employees had purchased, she was half tempted to toss this and go back to South Dakota. "Jack! I want you to get Erin back from whatever she's doing and sic her on the boys. I don't want either of them to make a move that you don't know about because if the demons have placed a bounty of Dean's head then I want them watched by you 24/7!" she snapped.

It had only been a couple weeks since Morgan had left the Winchester brothers and while she knew they attracted more trouble than a flame does moths she'd been reasonably certain that they could handle a simple vengeful spirit case without bringing anything heavy done on them. "This is Dean, who the hell was I kidding?" she asked herself sourly knowing that trouble could find the elder Winchester without him even having to go looking for it. "Who came down with a cold?" as Jack continued his update, she felt the dull pain in her head get sharper a second before the knock came on the door. "Jack, quit griping and just pop into Bobby's and check on Dean and Sam for me," she ordered, heading for the door since she figured it was either one of the others arriving or the local twit who actually bought this place. "Gotta go, Jack, somebody's knocking on the door."

Not giving the mystic a chance to reply, Morgan swore as another feeling sent a cold chill down her skin. A chill that she didn't care for since it felt like something was trying to invade a link she shared with only one other person.

"Theo, considering you've stuck me with a haunted house that's sitting on burial ground, you're not real…" jerking open the door without thinking to look first, Morgan's threat died in the middle of it as she found herself staring up into the green eyes of…Dean Winchester. "Hey," she greeted quietly, not quite hiding her surprise at seeing him and knowing it when one eyebrow lifted.

"Hey yourself, babe," he returned, gaze calm but something seemed to flash through his eyes that she couldn't place before it was gone and he offered a smile. "Not the greeting I was expecting."

"Considering Jack just told me you were sicker than the proverbial bloody dog in South Dakota you weren't the bloke I was expecting to find on my doorstep, hotshot," Morgan replied, a strange feeling of unease warning her to be careful but she knocked it away to step back and allow him to come in. "Where's Sammy? And how the bloody hell did you let some geek warlock swap bodies with him under your nose?" she demanded all in one breath, shutting the door but not locking it and missing the way he tensed at the questions.

Looking around the old house with a mild interest, Dean turned back to Morgan to finally shrug. "Sam…he stayed with…Bobby so I could come here," he murmured, noticing that the young British woman seemed pale and could tell by the way she twisted a piece of long auburn hair that she was uneasy. "So, haunted house?"

"A soon to be dead employee didn't check the land deeds or the history too close," she complained bitterly, stepping past him to head for what she liked to call the kitchen. "I have soda, soda, and water, nothing alcoholic."

Morgan knelt to take a bottle of water out of the cooler, choosing to take a closer look at her friend. Dean seemed tense as he followed her. The body language was all wrong since it reminded her more of Kelly's cautious way of moving when in the field instead of the casual cocky swagger that Dean almost always used. She also began to take notice of other little things that only someone who knew him well would catch but the most telling thing was his clothes.

Dean Winchester either wore that battered leather jacket that had belonged to his Dad or a dark blue denim jacket. She'd never seen him in the dark green almost military style coat like he worse now. Accepting that new clothes were always a possibility, Morgan didn't allow her sense of caution to win out. She'd been through too much recently and just chalked up the paranoia to that.

"Water it is then," she held out the bottle, not surprised when his fingers brushed against her arm before taking the bottle. "Jack said you were sick. Something about being out in the rain making the geek-nerd dumpster dive for your cell phone."

Slowly taking a drink of water, Dean's eyes seemed to roam over the room as if judging things like Morgan herself often would in a combat situation before they came to her. "It's been a long time, Morgan," he began slowly, sitting the bottle down to close the distance between them.

"It's been a little over a week, Dean," Morgan grinned, the sixth sense in the back of her mind warning her to put more space between them just as he brought her into his arms for a kiss that briefly made the doubts and concern vanish until something began to dawn on her…

Dean Winchester had always been tall, lean and rugged with a wiry strength in his upper body but not even at fourteen had she ever felt fear when he would hold her. Today, the strength she felt in his arms made little spurts of fear shoot through her.

Morgan also noticed the difference in his hands. Despite being outdoors most of his life and using his hands in various ways, Dean's hands weren't as hard or calloused as the ones that had slowly slid up to cup her face between them. The most telling sign and the one that warned her of the danger was the kiss itself since no matter what he'd done with other girls Dean, even last week, had always made certain to control the kiss. He never let himself get too rough or force the kiss and the second she felt him deepen the kiss past the usual safe spot that Dean always seemed to stop on even when Morgan herself was still fine, she knew this wasn't her friend.

"Dean, stop," having to use more strength than normal to push him back, Morgan struggled to not show fear or let on that she had suspicions at least until she could gain some space to move. "Dean!"

It was the tone that warned him that he'd gone too far even before he felt the slender arms under his hands tremble. "I'm sorry," he murmured, easing back but not breaking the hold he now hand on her arms. "It's been too long since I could kiss…you," Dean's tone now was deeper, more gruff yet when he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip it was with a gentleness that seemed to hurt him. "You know, don't you?"

"You're not Dean," Morgan whispered, tensing to fight when she found herself pinned to the kitchen wall by strong hands and a body that seemed to know her most instinctive moves since he made certain to keep her pinned. "Let…go of…" she gasped when he quickly grabbed her hand that was reaching for the small silver switchblade she always carried in her back pocket.

"No, I'm not the Dean you left a week ago but I'm also not a damn shapeshifter so let's leave the knife alone," he replied, dropping the tone he had been using and if Morgan had further doubts that this was her friend this man's normal tone of voice erased them. "I don't want to hurt you, Morgan, so don't fight me."

Hating to be pinned or held, especially by a man she didn't trust, Morgan could've laughed in his face and was tempted if he hadn't turned a smirk on her that was pure Dean Winchester. "I don't have to have my hands free to get rid of you, slick," she snapped, figuring if he was a shapeshifter or something that she could figure it out once she got free of his hold. But instead of seeing him fly across the kitchen as was planned, she hissed as burning pain shot through her head when her attempt to use a mild burst of her power to shove him back only managed to move him back a foot.

While it was enough to break his hold, the pain it caused made doing any more than drop to her knees impossible. Swearing bitterly and fighting the growing fear, Morgan reached for the knife on the floor when a strong hand gripped hers. "No…"

"Does your Dean know you can't use your powers on him, Morgan?" 'Dean' asked mildly, kneeling down to knock the knife out of her reach before pulling her back to her feet but was quick to trap her wrists in one of his hands at the small of her back. "He doesn't, doe he? He doesn't know that there are limits to your powers since that link was formed and that slapping him in the head is probably all you could do to him…or me."

"What are you?" she demanded, refusing to show this thing fear but still jerked when his fingers touched her throat to lift the silver chain of the necklace she wore. "Don't touch that. You're not him so…"

With a sigh, he lifted his eyes to see the fear in her blue ones and recalled a time in his life that he'd sworn never to cause this woman to ever fear him. "I'm not a 'shifter, or a ghoul, or a skinwalker, or anything else that's probably bouncing around your head, Angel," 'Dean' felt the way she stilled in his grasp at the simple use of the nickname and he smiled. "You can read my thoughts to find out who I am if you'd calm down."

Not liking the way he seemed to be able to block her powers in a way that Dean could only do to a lesser degree, Morgan strained against his hold until he shoved her back harder but when he went to grasp her chin she was quick to just go limp.

"Sonuvabitch," he growled, forgetting how quick the girl could be and went to readjust his hold when an open handed palm strike to his jaw made him fall back with a harsh oath. "Morgan, don't make this harder on yourself!"

Upon realizing that whatever this was could not only affect her abilities but also have a slight control over the link she shared with Dean, Morgan knew the best thing to do was to get clear of his influence and shout for a mystic. To do that however, meant getting to the door and she wasn't sure with the way her head was ringing if that would be possible.

"No bloody 'shifter should be able to do this," she muttered, turning a second before she was knocked down to be pinned on the floor. "You're not Dean so lose the damn image!" she snapped, refusing to let this happen again. "Angels, demons, 'shifters! I won't let you use him and get away from…" Morgan tried to jerk free when strong fingers gripped her face to force her to look at him.

"Look at me!" 'Dean' ordered sharply, the tip of a well worn knife touching her throat. "Use those damn powers and read my mind! See what and who I am!" he ordered, feeling the second she did and knowing when realization came. "I do not want to hurt you but you're my only way to Dean and Sammy, little girl."

Staring up at him, Morgan's breath had stopped as she saw in brutal flashes who this was. "He…he said you died," she whispered, confusion and fear mingling. "Dean said that…"

"Angels have a bad habit of changing things, babe," 'Dean' replied with a bitter laugh, keeping his full weight on the young woman even though he knew on gut instinct that it scared her. "I hadn't seen or heard from one in years until I woke up to that smirking bastard Zachariah leaning over me. He said that even though your Dean didn't learn a damn thing from his trip to see what damage Sam does to the world, there was still time to fix it…if I could do it."

The merest mention of the self-serving bald arrogant Angel and Morgan knew what this was about. "Dean going five years into the future didn't hurt anything…you being here could screw it up worse than it already is," she argued, trying to twist under his weight when images of recent weeks started coming back and the panic she was burying grew. "Get…off…" feeling the strength of his hands as they gripped her arms to jerk her up from the floor. "Coming here won't get you…"

A hard backhand sent her falling into the rickety table, stunning her more than both the shock of seeing him and the screwed up mental link had already done. "I didn't need Zach telling me that you're Dean's other weakness to know that to get him all I had to do was find you." he remarked, reaching into a pocket of his jacket. "Hell, I knew that already because you were always my other weakness."

"Dean…I won't let him…come here so you can kill him, bastard," Morgan spat, tasting blood while she struggled to move when he grabbed her arm to twist it hard behind her back as he placed a knee against her back to hold her still.

"It's not Dean I want, sweetheart," the Dean who came from five years in the future replied in a harder tone while showing her the needle in his hand. "Hold still cause if you jerk and this goes in wrong not even Dean could save you this time," he warned, feeling her still at the sight of the needle and swearing he wouldn't let the frightened cry affect him as the needle slid into her arm. "It'll only hurt for a little while then you'll go to sleep and when you wake up...it'll be over."

Feeling the drug burn as it went into the vein, Morgan's eyes blurred but she struggled to focus on the face of a man who looked so much like her friend but could be so different that it scared her. "Dean…won't let…you hurt Sam," she told him, feeling her hand brush against her face. "I…won't let you hurt them."

"Babe, you don't have a choice," 'Dean' replied grimly, reaching down to lift her into his arms. "We're going to call Sammy and with Dean sick, yeah I know all about that little body swap mess they got into, he'll come for you alone. Because like you and I would always protect Sammy, I know he'll always try to protect you and Dean," he went on, carrying her upstairs without a struggle now that the drug was making it impossible to fight.

Dragging a chair in from the hall, 'Dean' considered a moment before tying the nearly unconscious young woman to it after he made certain to remove any sharp objects that he knew she'd be carrying and then sat on the edge of the bed to stare at her for a long time. "I'm sorry," he whispered, lifting her face up in his head and not caring for the way she was responding so quickly to what should've been a mild drug but not having any other choice but to use her like this.

" 'You've become a bloody cold-blooded bastard, Dean,'" words echoed in his head from what seemed like a lifetime ago to him as he looked at something he carried in his pocket. " 'This is still Sammy and we promised that no one would hurt him. Doesn't that apply to his own brother?'" he recalled the pain in her voice as she asked him that shortly after Detroit happened and they lost the boy that had meant so much to both of them.

Stroking a thumb along Morgan's cheek, he felt the tears that nearly made him waver before his gaze fell on the item he clutched in his hand and he recalled wiping tears off his Morgan's face the last night he'd held her. "That hasn't applied to Sammy since the day he killed you and to spare both you and this time's Dean that same pain, Sam's got to be stopped," he declared, picking up her discarded cell phone to run through the memory only to smile thinly before pressing the speed dial button and waited.

"Hi, and before you bitch I have a perfectly good excuse for what happened with Gary," Sam Winchester sounded light hearted and relaxed for the first time in a long while, and considering he was still suffering from the left over effects of Gary's breathing problems, was a strange thing for him. At least he was until he didn't hear the voice he expected to hear. "Morg?"

"Morgan can't come to the phone right now, Sammy," the 'Dean' from the future spoke seriously, moving so he could kneel beside the young woman. "In fact, if you ever want her to be able to talk to you or Dean again, then I suggest you listen to me very carefully."

Fist tightening around the phone, Sam shot a confused look at Bobby Singer before focusing back on the phone. "Who is this and where's Morgan?" he demanded tightly, knowing with Dean finally asleep upstairs that he couldn't wake his brother for this…even though the odds were good that his brother would kick his ass when he found out that he hadn't. "If you hurt her…"

"She hurt herself by fighting back," 'Dean' replied tightly, holding the phone out to her. "Talk to Sammy, Angel."

"You. Don't. Call. Her. That," Sam gritted, ignoring how eerily familiar the voice on the phone was and refusing to allow some stranger to use the nickname only his brother could for their friend. "Morgan?"

Hearing the fake 'Dean's' voice talking on the phone, Morgan's thoughts were blurred with pain, concern, and fear when she heard Sam's voice and she wanted to scream. "No…Sammy…stay away," she struggled to impress on the younger man that he needed to stay away. "Sam! Don't…oh!"

"Not smart, babe," 'Dean' told her roughly after his slap seemed to finish bringing unconsciousness on and he heard the threats from the other end of the phone. "You want to save her, kiddo. You know where she was last so that's where I am but Sammy? If you're smart, you'd bring your brother with you." he shut the phone down, guessing the boy would follow the GPS signal. "Sammy'll come and then God help us all but I'll do what that damn Angel wants and kill him…" he whispered to the icy cold room.

**Present day:**

Keeping himself between Morgan and this man who looked way too much like his brother for comfort, Sam shifted the knife in his hand. "What are you?" he demanded tightly, refusing to feel fear even though this sight was bringing back memories of St. Louis and that shapeshifter who had assumed his brother's form and tried to kill him.

With a dry laugh and a half smirk that was too much like Dean for Sam's liking, the man threw the lock on the bedroom door before sitting the weapon aside to hold out a small silver blade. "Just so you know that I'm on the level," he explained, slicing the blade across his exposed arm to show that it bled cleanly with no hissing or other reaction like a shapeshifter or ghoul would have. "You really want to see the reaction to salt or holy water, Sammy?"

"It's Sam," he replied tightly, hearing a soft whimper from his friend but knowing he couldn't risk taking his eyes off this man. "What are you?" Sam demanded again, more intently this time. "What did you do to her?"

"You know who I am, Sam," 'Dean' replied easily, noticing the way the boy kept himself between him and Morgan and was silently proud of that. It had been so long since he had seen his little brother in person that he'd nearly forgotten what Sam was like before…before Detroit and before Dean had lost everything else good in his life.

Hazel eyes met the harder looking green eyes of this man who looked like Dean. "Another trick by Zachariah since he knows he can hurt Dean by hurting Morgan," Sam spat, refusing to let that happen again. "Did you hurt her like he did in West Virginia?" he asked, grip tightening on the knife. "I'll kill you if you…"

"Come again?" 'Dean' stared at the boy before letting his eyes drop to Morgan, recalling the way she fought as soon as he'd pinned her down and the brief flashes of memory he picked up and he bitterly recalled why he despised that Angel in his own time. "Zach hurt her to get to Dean here?" he swore to shove something in that bastard's heart but sighed. "No. I didn't hurt her like that, Sammy. She fought back and I might've hit harder than I thought but the drug'll wear off…sometime. Sam, surely Dean told you about me…"

Slowly, Sam began to realize who he was looking at and for some reason that scared him more than the thought of this being a shapeshifter. "Dean said that…he said that you were dead," he murmured, knowing exactly what his brother had told him of that time five years in the future.

"Yeah, the last time Dean saw me you, well to be fair, Lucifer in your body, had just killed me," 'Dean' admitted, stepping further into the room while not letting Sam see what he had behind his back. "Zach made sure I got better and then gave me the option to do what your brother can't," he explained, noticing that Sam was making sure to keep his position in front of the semi-conscious Morgan. "You can't protect her, Sammy," he remarked sadly. "She was a nice tool to use to get you here but…"

"My brother loves her," Sam cut him off bitterly, wondering what else had happened to this man to turn him this hard, this bitter, this cold. "You hurt her. You drugged her. Dean wouldn't do that. Nothing could ever make Dean hurt Morgan…not even Dad. If you're supposed to be my brother in five damn years, how could you? Or didn't you have her in your time?" he asked, hoping to by himself enough time to get a handle on this or to have a mystic or an Angel show up.

A brief flash of pain could be seen in the older man's tired eyes before it turned even harder as he pulled the Colt .45 out from under his jacket to aim it at Sam. "Yeah, I had Morg," he admitted with a tired smile, tossing what he held in his other hand at the startled young hunter. "I had her up until the night she died in my arms because Morgan still believed you could be saved even after Lucifer took you and against my better judgment I let her try to bring you back," gazing between the Sam's pained face and Morgan, 'Dean' aimed the .45. "I was too far away to get to her before he…you literally ripped her heart out and my wife dead in my arms. That's why I need to do this. The only way to save you and save them from that pain is to kill you," he went on grimly, looking up finally to meet Sam's eyes with tears in his own. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered, pulling the trigger to fire the Colt's .45 caliber round into Sam's chest. "I'm sorry."

**TBC**

**A/N: **_Yep, I do seem to love ending on these nasty cliffhangers. Of course, we all know I won't do a deathfic but I do come close so will Sammy make it out of this without being shot? Will Dean find out what's happening? And what the heck is Zachariah up to this time? Of course, the ghost may also have a say in this too. Chapter 2 coming soon._

_As always, I appreciate everyone who reads and also those who choose to review. Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Two**

The second the weapon went off, Sam Winchester's instinctive reaction was to move but a quick after thought warned him that if he did the bullet might strike his still tied friend. Refusing to risk Morgan being harmed any worse than she had been already, he took a step forward to make sure the round struck him and silently wondered if Lucifer would bring him back from a gunshot wound when the bullet suddenly seemed to freeze in midair then dropped.

"Huh?" Sam blinked at that since he knew he hadn't done that when the older looking man with his brother's face and attitude seemed to scowl.

"Shit," 'Dean' muttered, hard green eyes narrowing. "I didn't think you could do that with the drug in your system."

Realizing who he was speaking to, the younger Winchester turned just enough to see that while Morgan's eyes were only partly open and glassy, her nose was bleeding. A sign that he remembered from his childhood and realized that she was pushing her abilities.

"Remember…when you said…that I couldn't use my powers on Dean?" she forced out between clenched teeth, clearly having problems staying focused and breathing until she felt the light touch of Sam's hand on her shoulder and knew there would only be one shot at this. "That rule…goes out the window…so long as Sam's here, genuis."

Making her head move despite the heaviness and the pounding between her ears, Morgan's eyes flashed with one solid burst of energy that took the 'Dean' from 2014 off his feet. Smashing him into the heavy armoire across the room before she gasped in pain, feeling the shift in her nervous system to know something was wrong which meant she needed to get Sam out of here.

"We need to go," Sam didn't like not dealing with the man since he knew he was still a threat but he was more concerned with freeing Morgan and getting her out of the line of fire. "I'll get you out and then…what?" he asked after dropping back to his knees to quickly finish cutting the ropes when he saw her weakly shake her head. "Morgan, what's…"

"Go, Sam," she told him tightly, not liking the numbness in her hands right then even as Sam was jerking the ropes off while tearing his attention between her and this other 'Dean'. "Sam, you need to go...before it's too late."

Jerking the final rope free, Sam was quick to catch her as Morgan seemed to fall against him and he noticed the way her hands were trembling and also how cold and clammy her skin was. "I'm not leaving you," he argued, recognizing that she was trying to shield him. "Dean'll kill me if anything happens to you and he's actually back in the mood where Bobby doesn't want to shoot him every five seconds so…"

Knowing the threat to Sam was from more than just a time displaced older version his brother, she struggled to make him understand that he needed to leave but the burning pain was making it hard to talk and handling any Winchester when he was being stubborn was nearly impossible when she was feeling good. "Sammy…the drug…I can't feel and…oh, God…"

Hearing a groan from across the room told Sam his time was running out. He knew all he needed was to get Morgan out of the house, call Castiel for help and was just starting to lift his friend up when he saw her eyes roll back a millisecond before the first seizure seemed to come from nowhere. "Morgan!"

Not expecting the seizure or how violently the young woman was shaking, Sam fought panic as he quickly lifted her up, kicked the chair out of the way to lay her on the bed, but then went blank in what he should do next. His brother had more experience in dealing with Morgan if she was hurt. Recalling a friend of Jessica's who had suffered from seizures, Sam tried to think of what he should do but panic was making his forget the most important thing. The man who had been responsible for this in the first place.

"Damn, I didn't know she'd figured out that loophole," 'Dean' groaned, shaking his head when something made him look up and stop. "Sam?"

Keeping one hand on Morgan in order to try to keep her calm and still, Sam pulled the gun he carried and swung around to face the older version of his brother. "What the hell did you give her?" he demanded harshly, panic making him seem years younger and realizing he'd have to drop the gun if her wanted to try to keep Morgan from hurting herself more. "Dean's going to kill me way before you do over this," he muttered, swearing under his breath, laying the gun on the nightstand in order to have both hands free as he tried to remember his most basic first aid class. "Damn it! Morgan, calm down! I…don't know how to stop this. What…"

Picking himself up from the floor, 'Dean' took the scene in and quickly realized what must have happened. "_Sonuvabitch_," he swore bitterly, watching as Sam struggled to keep Morgan still but knew the kid was close to panicking. "It was only a narcotic from my time but…"

"Morgan isn't from your time!" Sam shouted, dragging a hand through his hair, which immediately took it from how he had it swept back to right back into his face like he used to wear it. "She's still hurt and weak! Whatever it is, she can't handle it, and it's killing her! Dean could stop this," he muttered to himself, almost forgetting the other man in the room as his panic took him back to the times in his life that his big brother was only a shout away. "Morgan! Hang on! I'll make it stop…I…"

Considering the gun he'd picked up from the floor, 'Dean' knew he could easily shoot right now and finish his task because this younger Sammy was lost in his fear and confusion and had completely forgotten how much danger he was in.

He aimed the pistol carefully while letting his finger slid toward the trigger until the panicked whispers finally reached him and he realized Sam was begging for help. He was begging his brother for help. Eyes firm, he watched this young man struggle to stop the violent convulsions that the drug was causing Morgan to go through and it wasn't until he noticed Sam use the back of his jacket sleeve to wipe his face that he felt something inside him soften.

This wasn't his brother but it could've been five years earlier before 'Dean's' own bitterness had shoved the final wedge between them. He could still recall his little brother as a kid, the panicked look in Sam's eyes now and the way he was struggling to save his friend brought back more memories than he cared for. It was when he finally listened to the boy's urgent pleas for his friend to hold on, that his brother would help her if she could just hold on that he swore under his breath and moved toward the bed.

"It'll be okay, Morg," Sam was talking rapidly, keeping his hands on her shoulders to try to keep her still as he tried to ignore the gasps for air his friend was making when he felt the bed shift. "No! You don't touch her!" he warned, moving to try to shield her from the man who he blamed for this when he found himself hauled over the bed to come within an inch of the other man's face.

"Sam! Listen to me!" 'Dean' snapped, seeing the boy's fear and understanding it. "I can stop this but you have to let me touch Morgan to do it," he told him, sighing as his harder tone seemed to just make Sam more defensive. "Sam…"

Trying to shove the older man away from his friend, Sam's head exploded when a fist connected with the side of it and he fell back to land on the floor. "You caused this!" he accused bitterly, missing the brief flash of pain that crossed the other 'Dean's' face as he tried to move to keep him from touching Morgan but blinked in confusion as something was shoved into his hands. "What?"

Knowing the seizures had been going on too long and had to be stopped soon, 'Dean' had quickly pulled his belt free to toss it to a confused Sam. "Put it in her mouth," he snapped before moving his hands to slid under Morgan's head. "Now, Sam!"

"No…she's frightened," Sam argued, closing his hands into fists around the worn leather. "I…you can't gag her, not like this. It'll being back…"

Swearing under his breath, 'Dean' sat on the bed fully but had to turn his eyes to meet Sam's since he knew that was the only way to make him understand. "Sammy! She's seizing!" he made his voice sharper than he knew this time's Dean probably would but knew he was out of time. "The belt will keep Morgan from biting her tongue. As soon as I get these stopped, you can take it out or wrap it around my throat."

It made sense to the part of Sam that could still think logically so with a pained look and a silent apology, he put the leather belt between Morgan's teeth as carefully as he could manage while finally noticing what 'Dean' was doing. "Dean…did that once to a boy in school," he muttered, sitting on the other side of the bed to watch closely.

"Even though I'm beginning to think that time isn't the only thing that's different now, I'm sure your Dean and I share memories of the past. Which means Pastor Jim taught him how to handle someone having a seizure," 'Dean' remarked in a tight voice, concentrating hard since it had been a long time since he'd had to do something like this as his let his hands curl around Morgan's neck until his fingers found the correct nerves to touch. ""Shh, just relax. It'll be over soon," he lowered his voice into a tone that he'd forgotten he'd known how to use as his strong fingers dug into soft nerves to begin squeezing them in a methodical manner until he felt the young woman's convulsions slowly begin to ease. "Sammy's with you and he's safe."

'Dean' knew Morgan would be scared for Sam. He knew that was why she was fighting so hard against the seizures since she knew that Sam was in danger. "He's safe from me, Morgan." he assured her, looking closer at her right arm and swearing violently under his breath when he noticed the swollen red and blue needle track that marred her arm. "Sam, in my coat pocket, get out that other damn syringe and show it to me." 

"What? Why?" relaxing more now that Morgan seemed to be calming down, Sam still wasn't ready to fully trust this stranger but something in his tone reminded him of his own brother's 'about to be highly pissed off' voice. Keeping a cautious eye on the man, Sam reached into the pocket he'd indicated to remove a syringe with a reddish looking liquid inside. "This?"

Glancing over to give a quick look, 'Dean' felt his temper shoot back up but covered it barely as he continued to squeeze the hard nerves and muscles in Morgan's neck and shoulders that had seized up in the convulsion until he felt them begin to loosen and he heard her whimper under his hands. "It's okay," he murmured, moving one hand to the side of her face in time to see her eyes starting to flicker under long lashes. "Sammy's right beside you and he'll keep you safe," he soothed, feeling the cautious gaze of the young hunter watching him even as he held out a hand for the needle. "Give it to me."

"No," Sam refused, not willing to trust the man with the needle until he saw the anger in his eyes but somehow knew it wasn't directed at either him or Morgan. "What is this?"

"Good question, Sammy," 'Dean' snorted, again holding his hand out for the needle and as soon as it was placed hesitantly in his grasp he moved away from them with it. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed, holding it up to the window to allow the sun to shine through it. "I am so going to kill that goddamn fat arrogant Angel the next time I see him," he growled, tossing the amber filled syringe into the trashcan. "I don't expect you to believe me but this isn't the drug I brought with me, Sam. That was clear and it should only have knocked her out for a couple hours. Believe it or not, I'd taken into account that this time's Morgan would be weaker than what I was used to. This…this isn't what I brought and…"

Moving up so that he'd be closer to Morgan when she curled onto her side like he knew she would, Sam's gaze held the other man's for a long moment. Now that he was calming down, he began to think more and also notice more about this older, more harder version of his brother. "Zachariah didn't just send Dean five years into the future, did he?" he asked quietly. "It was…what? An alternate future that may or may not happen?"

"I don't know, Sam," 'Dean' admitted, seeing the younger man tense when he picked up his pistol but after a quick look just shoved it back under his jacket. "I know that Dean had every knife, blade, and lockpick that I carry and he had plenty of the scars that I had…but some things were different," he glanced at his left hand before looking back at Sam. "I still wore my wedding band and his ring finger on that hand didn't even have a mark so…"

"Dean and Morgan are still in the getting to know each other without killing each other stage," Sam replied, feeling his friend move uneasily on the bed and unsure if she was restless due to the attack or something else but pleased that she relaxed a little when he let his hand rest over hers. "My brother still has trouble saying how he feels for her. She was away from us for fifteen years."

'Dean' turned from fingering a file on the house to stare at Sam, surprise evident. "Then that's where your Dean and I differ because I went after Morgan right after you…my Sam left for school. Dad and I weren't hunting together and I…besides my brother she was all that I loved so…" he shrugged, eyes softening as they gazed at the sleeping young woman. "Hell, I'd forgotten what it was like to be this young until I saw Dean in my time and now…her and you. Sam…" he turned serious as he approached the bed. "Even though this or my time might be things that could happen…in my time you let Lucifer take you and the world went to Hell. I…if there's a way to stop that from happening here or to my time then…you know I have to try, don't you?"

Body tensing, Sam guessed he should've been expecting this since any version of his brother wasn't going to let something go this easily. "Zachariah brought you back to life, brought you to our time, probably sent you right to Morgan's door for a reason, D…Dean," he had a hard time using that name when something flashed in his memory and he froze. "I saw you," he whispered, eyes going wide as memories that he'd been struggling with for weeks finally came back vividly. "You've been back in this time since Zach pulled that stunt in West Virginia. I saw you, didn't I?"

"Kinda hoped you didn't remember that, Sam," the older man murmured, sitting down on the chest at the bottom of the bed. He stayed where he could see the boy's face and actually hating the mixture of sick shock and fear he found reflected in large hazel eyes that once again reminded him of the brother he'd lost long before Lucifer took his body. "Yeah, Zachariah brought me to this time and wanted me to see his little plan. I…saw what they did to you, Sammy but I swear if I had known that he had hurt her I would've ganked his ass then and there."

While Sam had recovered mostly from the events of a few weeks earlier, he still had some issues that he tried to keep his brother from knowing were bothering him. This revelation bothered him a lot and he seemed to move closer to Morgan on both instinct and caution. "So…why didn't you kill me there?" he wondered, hearing what sounded like noises from downstairs but knowing they were alone in the house. "It would've been easier than hurting her or…"

"Yeah, it would've been," 'Dean' agreed, not having a good answer to why he hadn't except for the one he talked himself into. "I wanted you to know why it was happening, Sam. I wouldn't have hurt you there after I saw what they…" he stopped to narrow a hard look at the younger man. "You did tell Dean, right?"

"Dean hates Zachariah for a lot of other crap without him knowing everything else, dude," Sam returned shortly, coughing. "You can try to kill me but I won't make it easy on you and I won't leave her defenseless," he declared firmly, not knowing how he'd handle this since he knew he couldn't get his brother involved in the condition he was in.

Looking between them, the older Dean considered his next few options silently. Watching Sam hover as Morgan slept reminded him of his little brother and the way the two of them would drive him nuts since if Dean wasn't getting one out of trouble then it would be the other. However, he could rarely recall the good times without remembering that last dark night when he'd vowed to stop Lucifer or die trying. A deathbed promise was one thing he'd grown up with but a graveside promise was the one he couldn't break and he'd sworn on Morgan's grave that he'd make damn certain their future never happened if he ever had the chance.

"Sam…" he began to speak when the whole house seemed to shake an instant before it sounded like every window shattered with a scream that made 'Dean' cringe at the high pitch sound. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, turning to stare at the door and reaching for the sub-machine gun on instinct.

The sound seemed to cause Morgan's restless sleep to become even more so as she jerked violently but didn't wake as both men watched to be sure the convulsions hadn't returned. "Stay here with her while I go check it out," Sam declared, reaching for the weapon he'd discarded earlier as he stood to look between his uneasy friend and this man who a part of Sam knew was too much like his own brother. "Touch her, hurt her and I'll make you bleed before I die," he warned, wondering if he should mention that Lucifer wouldn't let him die that easy anyway but decided against it for the moment in favor of finding out what was making the noises downstairs.

"Kid still has your attitude I see," 'Dean' grumbled, always blaming his brother's attitude on Morgan's influence but it amused him to hear the threat in the boy's voice especially when he knew Sam was putting the brave front on for her sake. Kid was scared of him and not just for the threat to life and limb he posed but because of what he believed he knew. "Damn you Zachariah," he cursed bitterly, not liking the way this was turning out since only the arrogant Angel could've have changed the syringes he had and that meant that he'd intended for Morgan to be hurt. He just couldn't figure out why.

Hurting Sam he could see the point but the only thing that taking Morgan out of the picture would cause was Dean's instant reaction…not that he wasn't going to blow up the second he learned of Sam's death anyway. "Assuming I can kill him in a way that Lucifer won't bring him back from," 'Dean' muttered, listening as another scream tore through the house just as the shutters on the bedroom window slammed shut. "What the hell?" he asked again, going over to open the window only to find it jammed shut. "Oookay, this is so not good."

"You…think, genuis?"

Turning, he found Morgan's eyes were partially opened but still glassy as if in shock and pain. "I'm guessing the windows locking by themselves isn't a normal thing, right?" he asked, moving toward the bed and not missing how she tensed as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "Don't move," he advised, still not liking how pale she seemed or the way her right hand trembled or the highly erratic pulse he felt when he touched her wrist.

"Where's…Sammy?" Morgan demanded, having to make her eyes focus to bring just one of the older 'Dean's' into view but not liking the vibes in the house, trying to jerk her wrist free when his fingers gripped it tighter to feel her pulse. "Let…go, please."

It was the soft fear he heard in the last word that made him release her hand, his normal hard gaze softening as he looked at her and seeing both the fear of him and her concern for Sam. "I'm not going to hurt you," he told her, figuring if she was stronger he'd get a dark look and an eye roll that could rival Sammy's best bitch face but right then all she did was watch him with tired eyes that tore the heart he thought couldn't be hurt anymore. "Morgan, the drug in that needle wasn't what I thought it was. I don't know if Zach switched it or…"

"Where is Sam?" she demanded, ignoring his attempt to explain and refusing the fear that the Angel's name brought since right then she only had one concern and that was getting Sam Winchester the hell out of this house before… "What time is it?"

"Huh?" surprised at the sudden change in question, 'Dean' glanced toward a wind-up clock on the nightstand. "A little after midnight now, why? Whoa…whoa, where the hell d'ya think you're going?" he demanded, catching her when she went to roll out of the bed only to nearly fall. "Morgan! You had a damn seizure. You aren't going to be moving anywhere until you rest some or…what?" something in her now wide eyes warned him of a danger that he hadn't been expecting. "Sam went to check downstairs for…damn it!"

Morgan tried to shove his hands away in order to get free of the bed quickly but was too weak and disoriented to do anything but fall back against his chest, struggling weakly when his arms closed around her to keep her still as panic set in. "No! You don' understand," she whispered, exhausted suddenly even as the sound of a shotgun going off made them both look toward the door. "Sammy!"

Between the shotgun blast and the pure panic he heard in her voice, this 'Dean' didn't have to guess that something very wrong was happening. He just had to figure out what the hell it was first. "Shh, take it easy. Sam'll be fine. He probably just found a rat to shoot at or…" he easily restrained the young woman but was careful not to frighten her as he laid her back on the pillows, his concern doubling when she stayed still and only grabbed his hands. "Morgan? What's wrong? Why were you in this house and…"

"Witch," she whispered, voice slurring as shock from the drug and the seizure took its toll but needing to make him understand. "House…cursed. File's…on the dresser," Morgan tried to motion when a loud bang shook the house and a scream was heard but this one made 'Dean' go cold and he grabbed for Morgan before she could move. "Help…Sammy, please."

Torn between finishing what he'd come here for and just walking out, 'Dean' found that he still couldn't look at the fear in her eyes without giving in. Grabbing the file off the dresser, he leafed through it with eyes and skills that hadn't had to handle this sort of crap in years but found himself growing cold the further he read until finally he threw the file into the air.

"Who the hell buys a house built on Indian burial ground, that had a witch burned in the back yard before she cursed the whole damn place?" he demanded loudly, snatching a piece of paper before it could fall. "Every fifty years this house becomes Amityville for twenty-four hours and you decide to be here for it? _Ex-cuse_ me, when exactly did your brain stop working because even the Dean of this time would know this was such a damn bad idea and I bet he didn't know anything about it, did he?" he finally finished yelling only to see a mild dark look being aimed at him. "God! Now I know why Sammy said you and Dean were only at the getting to know one another again stage without killing one another. You're as bullheaded as he is…or I am and…" 'Dean' drew off finally when he caught her chewing her bottom lip. "I'm supposed to be here to kill that kid! Why the hell would I want to stop a cursed witch's house from doing for me?"

Ignoring his yelling, Morgan's biggest concern was for Sam since she refused to allow him to be hurt in another one of her mistakes. "Because he's Sammy," she murmured, hoping that would be enough for even him and fighting the numbing cold she still felt. "Where you…come from…before it went wrong…you had Sammy. Was it so bloody different that you'd…leave him alone when he's still hurt…and afraid?" she asked, managing to find his hand to try to grip it much like she would her Dean but wasn't aware enough to feel when his fingers moved to hold hers. "Please…I promised Dean to look out for Sam when…he was with me. No one hurts…"

"…our Sammy," 'Dean' finished that quote softly, forcing the painful lump in his throat away to brush his hand across her cheek to feel the fever and knowing that if he hadn't used that damn drug on her then she would've been able to warn Sam of the threat earlier. "Damn you, Morgan," he blew out a breath as a scream that his once sharp hunter's senses could now tell was that of the witch once again rattled the locked windows. "I'll find Sam for you and I'll see you both out of this damn house in one piece but after that I won't promise anything," he replied firmly, seeing her nod before going limp as sleep once again pulled her under. "I never could say no to you, Angel," he murmured, leaning down to softly kiss her forehead. "If I see Dean again I really need to tell him that he should learn how to."

Looking around the bedroom, he found a couple things that would come in handy until he found Sam. "Guess my guns sure won't work here," he muttered, picking up the sawed-off shotgun that was laying on a duffel of other assorted gear for hunting spirits or the like and checking the chamber to see it was already loaded with rock salt rounds. "Shit, it's been too long since I've gone after a damn ghost or witch and I really hate witches," 'Dean' grumbled, pocketing extra rounds before stepping out of the bedroom. And only thought to step back to use the box of salt he'd also grabbed to salt the bedroom threshold in order to offer Morgan some protection until he could get Sam back to her and make a plan.

Growing up a hunter, 'Dean' found it odd how easy it was to step back to his roots as he started to look for Sam. He hadn't had to worry about hunting spirits, witches, vampires, Shritgas or anything like that since the whole Apocalypse happened and he lost his brother to Lucifer. His biggest worry was keeping his small band of survivors alive against the zombie-people the Croatoan virus created.

Now back five years in a past that might not even be responsible for his time and he found himself skulking around a haunted and cursed house in Massachusetts looking for the spirit of a witch and a boy he'd come to kill all because he was still a damn sucker for big blue eyes.

A crash from below him had him picking up his pace as he started down the steps to the first floor a second before he caught movement from the corner of his eye and he found Sam Winchester.

Struggling to stay upright after having just been tossed around the living room and having his head slammed against the stone fireplace, his one arm was hanging limp after being dislocated when the pissed off spirit who had locked the house down threw him down the broken basement steps. Now he was trying to reach his weapon where it laid in the foyer only to find the witch's spirit behind him with a knife ready to plunge into his heart and no back-up or big brother to save him this time.

"_**DIE!"**_ came the high pitched scream as the knife flew toward him even as he was thrown and pinned against the wall with no chance of escape.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Hmm, poor Sam can't catch a break, can he? Will he save himself or will future Dean save Sammy only to kill him? What is Zachariah's master plan that he would arrange all of this? Is it just to help future Dean avert his own horrid timeline or does Zach have an even bigger plan in motion that he needed both Sam and Morgan dealt with to accomplish? Check out CH 3 for those answers…or and also how Dean reacts when he finds out both his car and his brother aren't where they should be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Three**

Sam fought to break the hold that held him to the wall but knew he wouldn't be able to free himself and avoid the knife that was coming at him when he heard a sound that both shocked and terrified him.

"Hey!" this future Dean's tone of voice was deeper, more gravelly than his brother's but the force that went into a word that he'd always heard whenever Dean would come to his rescue still filled Sam with relief, even if it also shocked him.

Turning at the harsh unexpected voice, the misty looking form of the witch eyed 'Dean' as he quickly descended the steps but just smiled before jerking her hand to throw the knife when the shotgun blasted two barrels of rock salt through her. The shot dispersing her essence temporarily and causing the knife to drop to the floor a second before Sam slid down the wall, not moving.

"I hate witches," he grumbled, hurrying the rest of the way down the steps while trying not to notice had badly his heads were shaking after he noticed how close to Sam that shot had come. "I've hated 'em ever since one tried to eat you…or did that even happen to you? I'm now so damn confused by all this reality/time crap that it isn't funny."

A quick look around told him that the rock salt still had the desired effect before he shot a glance down. "You alright?" he asked gruffly, noticing that the boy appeared to be bleeding from several deep cuts and gashes but what concerned him more was the way his right arm was just hanging limp at his side. "Sam? You good or what?" asking in a louder tone in hopes of getting the boy to answer him, motioning with the shotgun. "Glinda won't be gone long and we really need to get your butt back upstairs until I figure out what the hell we're doing."

'Dean' had decided to risk reaching down to grab Sam's good arm when the younger man suddenly snapped back to attention. "I'm…fine," he replied, though the way he was clenching his teeth as he pushed his way back to his feet by sliding up the wall told a different story. "The doors and windows are…sealed or something," Sam told him, refusing to admit the pain he was in to a man who had come here to kill him but when he went to reach for the weapon that he'd lost his useless arm bumped into something and things went white.

"Whoa there, Sammy," acting fast, 'Dean' moved to keep the younger man from collapsing to the floor when he noticed how white his face had gone and could tell from the agony shining in his eyes what the problem was. "Dislocated or broke?" he queried, easing Sam back to the floor to take a closer look at his slightly glassy hazel eyes and noticing that his pupils were becoming too large. "Shit, what she hit you with?"

"A couple walls, the former basement steps, something…sharp and I stopped counting…" Sam murmured, not seeing much past the buzzing white wall of pain flaring in his brain and behind his eyes but still struggling to pull himself together. "I'm…good," he tried to bat away the calloused hands that were attempting to check him for broken bones. "Why'd you stop her?"

The question made 'Dean' pause to consider the reply as he stood to grasp Sam under his good arm and carefully pull him to his feet, frowning when he noticed the sticky spot on the back of Sam's shirt. "I guess the best answer is there are still two things I suck at refusing and her big blue eyes are one of them now can you walk alright cause I sure don't relish the idea of carrying you up those steps."

"Said I was…fine," Sam muttered, not noticing the dry smirk his nearly childish tone caused in the older man but he did feel the grasp of firm fingers on his good arm as he was nudged back up the steps. "She could've done your…job for you cause…y'know Lucifer won't let me die and…"

Feeling the air in the hall going cold, 'Dean' was quick to raise the shotgun in the direction that the sudden breeze had come from while shouting to Sam. "Get in the bedroom and resalt the door! I'll be there just as soon as I…" he hesitated a second as if looking for something when he whirled to fire another burst of rock salt. "I so hate witches," he muttered, slamming the bedroom door closed to lean against it in a manner that Sam found too familiar. "I also hate cursed haunted houses that are going to try to kill me!"

"Guessed that was what was happening when all the doors sealed themselves shut," Sam nodded, sitting down on the bed with a pained grimace that he hoped the other man missed while he noticed that Morgan was still pale as she clutched the silver necklace that he knew his brother had given her. "How long before the cycle ends and can I find her bones to burn them?" he inquired curiously, not bothering to ask himself how he planned on doing that with his arm hurt.

Grabbing the scattered papers, 'Dean' tossed them toward the hunter while resalting the door and windows before finally taking the time to give Sam a knowing once over. He had known right off that the boy's shoulder was at the very least dislocated but now that he was looking closer, he saw the blood trailing from his hairline, the bruises on his face and the way he seemed to be favoring that one side. "We have twenty four fun filled hours in this house of hell to either survive it or find Glinda the Good Witch or…Bad Witch in this case and salt and burn her bones or…" he left the rest up to the creative imagination Sam always seemed to have while stepping up behind him. "You gonna let me help you pop that shoulder back in or not?"

"If I had a choice?" Sam shifted a tired look over his shoulder. "No, since I know you'd rather take me out but…" he looked down at Morgan. "I need to keep her safe for the next twenty-four hours so that means letting you…help me."

"Yeah, I'm equally thrilled about this too, kid," 'Dean' replied dryly, refusing to admit that he detested seeing Sam, any version of Sam, in pain. "Try not to pass out since all that will do is cause me to get my ass kicked by your babysitter there," he urged, stepping up so that he could place one hand firmly on Sam's back and grasped his limp arm in his other hand. "Count of three and don't scream."

Nearly laughing at the advice, Sam tensed at the count of two since that was always when his brother would jerk his arm back into place. When the count went past five, he relaxed while thinking that the other man had changed his mind and the moment he did a burning pain shot through his arm, shoulder, and back as his arm was jerked back into place. "That hurt!" he snapped, trying to pull away but found himself held in place. "What're you…owww!"

"Stay still, stupid," 'Dean' rolled his eyes, swearing about little brothers everywhere even as he was carefully rubbing the tightness out of Sam's shoulder. "You keep tensing and it'll just get tighter until you can't move it. Damn it, Sam, I'm not going to hurt you!" he snapped, recognizing the fear in the younger man and understanding it.

"Yet," Sam supplied, gritting his teeth as his shoulder burned but noticed the more the other 'Dean's' fingers dug into the muscles surrounding it that the pain was going away and he could move it more freely. "It's stopped hurting…thanks," he murmured, starting to reach for the papers to see what Morgan had put together when he stilled at the feel of a hand on his neck. This was something only his brother and Morgan had done with him and to have this older, much harder version of his brother do something so similar made him miss the brother he'd left in South Dakota. "Why're you doing this?" he decided to ask, almost missing the soft sigh before the voice went back to its usual gruffness.

Feeling the shoulder muscle loosen enough for his liking, 'Dean' eased up on it but kept a hand on the boy before he could move so that he could check that sticky spot on his shirt. If this Sam was anything like his little brother then he knew to expect a fight as soon as he went to touch his back, especially after what he had seen done to this boy in West Virginia. "I promised Morgan that I'd see you both safely out of this house, Sam, and I will," he replied in answer to the young man's question, shrugging. "After she's out, then we'll see what happens between us. Now, take off the shirt so I can see where you're bleeding from since it won't help this job if you bleed out or get an infection."

Sam was about to refuse that order since his back was the one thing that he didn't like anyone, not even his own brother, to touch when he felt the soft touch on his hand a second before the warning voice spoke.

"Sammy…"

"It's a gash, that's all," he argued, not wanting Morgan upset more but also not wanting a stranger, even one who wore his brother's face, to touch him. "I'll dress it in a…" the sound of his cell phone going off with an all to familiar ring tone cut him off and he swore softly. "Shit, this is bad."

Knowing that Morgan was still feeling sick and also knowing when she was feeling bad enough she wanted Dean, Sam snagged his phone before she could get to it because if his brother was going to be pissed off at him as it were, hearing how their friend sounded right now would set Dean off.

"Don't say a word," he hissed at the future Dean who just offered a smirk but decided to give the kid a break and distract Morgan whose mild fever and left over effects from the drug were making her too chatty.

Taking a deep breath, Sam pushed the button on his phone. "Hel…"

"Sammy, I'm pretty sure I'm still fevered and delirious so I'm probably misunderstanding half of what Bobby just told me," Dean Winchester's gruffer than normal, still sicker than a dog, voice came over the line and made his younger brother wince since he could picture every move his brother was making right then. "So, you want to tell me just where the hell you are, where the hell Morgan is, what the hell she's gotten into that meant you'd take off, on your own and without me mind you. Oh, and before I forget, where in the hell is my car?" he demanded all in one breath before cutting off with a gasp that had Bobby shouting at him to sit down before he fell back down.

Taking his time to answer, Sam noticed that the other 'Dean' was sitting across from him just watching as if he already knew what he'd been asked. "You're sick, Dean. I didn't want to wake you up when it might've been nothing and…" he paused to think fast when he heard the snort a second before he saw the eyebrow lift across from him and it was like being with Dean but not being with him.

"Put Morgan on the phone, Sam," Dean ordered, knowing his brother wasn't telling him everything and the second that Sam hesitated too long he knew something was wrong. "Sammy, either put Morg on or tell me what's happening now."

Frowning more, Sam considered how to stall Dean without having his brother kill him the first chance he got when he noticed that Morgan was watching him with eyes that looked so lost. "Dean wants to talk to you," he told her softly, taking the chance that his older brother wouldn't lose his temper too much…until he got back home that is.

"Hi," she greeted softly, her accent heavier as it always seemed to get when she was sick or frightened or it was just her and Dean. "Sammy said you were sick. Get off the phone and go back to bed and stop growling at me…" she drew off for a long moment, hating to be this weak but she was finding it hard to hide the pain now. "This hurts, Dean."

"That'll set him off," the older Dean predicted, knowing how those simple words would once have affected him and still would if he let them. "Sam, we need to keep her safe from that spirit until the drug wears off more and she gets over the seizure," he told him quietly, not wanting his younger self to hear him if he could keep from it but quickly knew that was out of the question a second before the young woman began to talk. "Damn, I forgot what a little chatterbox she was when sick."

Morgan had stopped paying attention to the two men or the haunted house that was now giving her bad vibes in order to concentrate on the phone and the man who was trying not to yell. "Tired," she murmured, having a hard time holding the phone.

"Angel, put Sam back on," Dean urged quietly, meeting Bobby's grim eyes. He had known that whatever happened to make his brother leave in such a hurry must have been bad to have his friend sound like she did.

Touching her necklace, Morgan's eyes blinked a few times before focusing on Sam but she fought to hold the phone before he could take it. "Dean?"

"Yeah, babe?" he knew the tone and knew that she was hurt bad enough that she either couldn't or wasn't hiding it from Sam and that scared Dean since he knew that Morgan hated for Sam to see her sick. Stepping out on the porch in order to have more privacy for the lecture he was about to dish out, Dean missed the subtle signs that something was wrong around him. "You wanna tell me what's wrong before I throttle Sammy?"

"You…" she blinked to clear her thoughts. "I…don' like this you," she muttered softly, missing his sharp breath. "Stupid…drug…hurts and…I want you…I can't…protect Sammy and…please…"

Closing his eyes against the burning he felt while listening to the unspoken pain and fear he could hear in her soft voice while trying to push their link as much as he could and discovering that it seemed muted or something was blocking it. "It's…okay, Morg," he assured her, voice gruff with emotion. "Sammy'll take care of you this time and no one will hurt either of you unless they want their damn lungs ripped out," Dean went on, coughing to cover the slight break he heard in his own voice. "Hand the phone back to Sam now and…I…Morgan, you know that I…" he stumbled on the words he wanted to say for the same reason he had such a hard time telling his own brother. "It'll be fine, babe. Put Sammy back on."

"I…love you," her whispered words were still heard both over the phone and in the bedroom before she held it out to Sam, eyes shining with tears and pain that still wouldn't leave but there was also a coldness she could feel that she couldn't place.

Sam took the phone and could already hear his brother's voice snarling. "Settle down before you make yourself sicker," he urged, wincing at the sharp tone of a pissed off Dean Winchester.

"Tell me what's happening, Sam," he ordered in the no nonsense tone he used only very rarely with his brother. "Are you alone with Morgan?" he demanded, waiting to hear the normal Sam-tone to say 'yes' but felt his fist clench when all that came was silence. "Put. Him. On. The. Damn. Phone."

"Who?" Sam asked in his best and most innocent tone, knowing that once upon a time he'd been able to pull that off but knew even without the blank incredulous stare of the older man across from him that this wasn't going to work today.

A low growl came from the other end of the phone and the sound of something hitting wood could be heard right before Dean's voice spoke. "Sammy, don't get me wrong cause for some reason that still escapes me I love you even when you pull stupid things like this but you can not lie to me worth a damn so either hand your phone to that son of a bitch, who should be dead, or put it on speaker…now."

Considering his options, Sam finally sighed and touched his phone to put it on speaker before laying it on the bed between them without saying anything to the older 'Dean' who just gave him a calm smile that his Dean often did when things were fully good between them.

"Hey, I take it you wanna talk to me?" he spoke casually, figuring the next words to come wouldn't be very nice and he wasn't disappointed. "Pissed off much, kid?"

Morgan and Sam exchanged looks as their Dean threw more creative curses at his time altered counterpart while the other 'Dean' merely sat and waited.

"What the hell are you doing in my time?" Dean demanded finally once he'd run out of curses to use and things began to gel. "Morgan…the way she sounds…Bobby said Sam tore outta here after he got a phone call. You went after Morgan, didn't you?"

"If I tell you to calm down and think this through, would you?" 'Dean' countered with a sigh, trying to avoid noticing the other eyes that were watching him. "I needed to use Morgan in order to bring Sam here but…things went…wrong," he admitted, knowing this would be received as fighting words to his younger self.

Remembering how cold and unfeeling this man had been in his time with his own people made Dean wonder what his motives had been by this move…until something began to gel and he felt his blood go cold a second before his brain moved into its overprotective mode. "_Sonuvabitch_," he hissed, stepping off the porch to pace since he'd all but forgotten the cold that put him in bed. "If you touch either Morgan or my little brother, if you hurt either of them, I will kill you myself."

"Dean, Morgan being hurt was not in my plan. I didn't know the drug I used on her had been switched or that it would cause a seizure," future 'Dean' commented grimly, watching how Sam still seemed to be trying to keep himself between him and Morgan as if shielding her from further harm while the boy's face was tight in pain he thought he was hiding. "She'll be alright if she gets over it and survives the next twenty-four hours with this witch's curse but…"

"You are such a dead man the minute I get to you!" Dean snapped, trying to think ahead but he was focused on the thought of what his friend and little brother would be facing since he had no doubts why his future self wanted Sammy. "Why the hell aren't you dead?"

That also still bothered 'Dean' if he was honest but couldn't let it since he knew he had only one shot at fixing his timeline. "Zach brought me back and offered me the chance to do what you couldn't," he explained grimly, lifting serious eyes to Sam and hating the desolate look he saw reflected briefly. "You know what you saw, Dean. You know you can't let Detroit happen…I can't let it happen so I…I'm sorry but I'll try to keep her from being hurt worse."

"I won't let you hurt Morgan," Sam's tone was hard but strained as he rubbed his head absently. "You… can try to kill me but…"

"Ain't nobody killing you!" Dean shouted, rage fueling him now as panic began settling in his stomach. "Sam is not giving in to Lucifer so Detroit ain't happening and I swear to God if you touch either my brother or my…" he stopped as if remembering the phone was on speaker and seeming at a loss for words until he heard the dry laugh that was still so like his own. "Shut up."

"You can call her that, you know," 'Dean' remarked, guessing what the younger man almost said. "It's the Apocalypse, Dean. Time to get over that fear of admitting your emotions or that fear of commitment thing you have. Trust me. You've wasted a hell of a lot of time with her…time that may be running out so…"

Eyes hardening as he stared off into the distance, Dean's fist was clenching on his phone. "You don't mention what Morgan and I have or for that matter, you don't mention her, touch her and when I find out just what you did do to her I will…" something suddenly bothered him. "Whoa, you said the drug you planned on using got switched. Switched by who?"

"I'm figuring Zach probably switched it the last time I saw him in West…" 'Dean' broke off at a sharp look from Sam who suddenly looked pain and scared. "Look, it doesn't matter. You're stuck in South Dakota and I'm sealed in a house by a crazy witch so odds are good that we'll be dead long before I can kill Sammy."

"He is so not helping this situation," Morgan muttered, shaking her head in order to focus on this mess while trying to ignore the chills she still had, the renewed house shaking and the way that Sam's shoulders were bunching. "Sam? What's wrong? Y'know, I'm not gonna let this bloody sod…Sammy?"

Sam could hear the growing concern in Morgan's voice just like he could still hear his brother's firm pissed off voice shouting over the phone at the older, more cold version of 'Dean' calmly dismissed the threats. He knew that the bleeding gash on his back and side were going to cause a problem if he didn't get them dressed or stitched but the younger Winchester hadn't been expecting the sudden sharp, stabbing pain in his head. Just like he didn't expect the searing, bright image flashing through his brain of his older brother standing in front of Bobby's house screaming into a phone right before he was nailed from behind by…

"Dean!" he screamed, agony ripping through him with such force that he slid from the side of the bed to the floor where he could grab his head as a vision that he hasn't had to cope with in years showed him the danger his brother was in but knew he was helpless to prevent.

"Sam?" hearing the pain and fear in his brother's voice tore into Dean but it also reminded him of other times he'd heard that same sound. "What the hell's happening to him?" he snapped, swearing that he was grabbing Castiel and going to that damn town in Massachusetts and that this is the last time Morgan was investigating anything on her own. "Damn you! What's wrong…"

Morgan hadn't been expecting Sam's reaction but tried to reach him when a strong hand gripped her arm to pull her back to allow the other 'Dean' to drop next to the now shaking hunter. "Sam!" he snapped, grabbing for Sam's shoulders to push him back up against the bed in order to look for himself and not liking what he was seeing. "What's happening?"

"Dean…get out of…no…" Sam gritted from between clenched teeth, seeing the blood and hearing his brother's screams when he felt rough hands grab him and he reacted instinctively. "NO! Don't touch…"

The fist that shot out struck the other 'Dean' square on the jaw, knocking him back as Sam struggled to his knees to try to get to the phone but fell back to grip his head.

"Sammy!" Dean swore bitterly, feeling helpless to do anything for his brother who sounded more afraid than he'd heard him since…since the night Dean's deal had come due. "Sammy, tell Morgan what's wrong. She's with you until I get there and you'll look out for each other. I'll be with you as soon as I…" a noise behind him caused him to turn, expecting to see either Bobby wheeling out on the porch or Castiel behind him. He didn't see anything except a blinding white light that took out both eyes just as a sharp pain slammed into his back unexpectedly and he felt something like a needle jab into his neck and he couldn't hide the cry of pain.

"Dean?" trying to split her already divided attention, Morgan grabbed for the phone when it was snatched out of her reach so she decided to let the other 'Dean' handle the phone which allowed her to concentrate on Sam who'd just gone white as he fell onto the bed as if he was trying to get to his brother. "What the bloody hell is going on?" she asked, feeling the sudden sharp pain in her back and knowing it was from Dean but not liking the way she couldn't see anything but shadows over their link. "Something's wrong but I can't tell what and I should be able to."

Taking the phone away from the kids, he couldn't help but think of these two as anything but, 'Dean' held the phone up to his ear and heard the gasping groans of agony. "Dean! What's wrong?" he demanded, not knowing or liking this turn since this shouldn't have been happening when he heard a voice that stopped him cold.

"Hello, Dean. I trust your assignment is going…smoothly?"

Feeling as if he'd been dropkicked in the gut, 'Dean' tightened his grip on the phone as his face hardened at the smug, arrogant voice. "Zachariah."

**TBC**

**A/N: **_He's baaaacccckkk. This can't be good. Zachariah showing up when Dean's alone without any chance of having his brother and friend helping him. Coincidence or something else? Can Sam and Morgan survive the witch's curse & future Dean in order to help their Dean and just what is going on? _

_Sorry for the slow update. Chapter 4 will be up faster._


	4. Chapter 4

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Four**

"Zachariah," the name was spat like a curse. The moment the 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 heard it speak from over the cell phone only a second after the present Dean had screamed in agony had a sick ball of fear forming. That and he also began to put pieces together that was leaving him feeling cold and angry. "What the hell are you doing and where's Dean?" he demanded, watching as Morgan struggled to calm Sam down as the boy was nearly curled up from a vision that this 'Dean' knew he shouldn't have had unless something seriously nasty had just gone down. "What assignment? What the hell have you done?"

The sound of tsking was heard over the phone that he'd taken off speaker. "Dean, you didn't really think I spent all that time and energy bringing you back from the dead after Lucifer killed you in your time, bringing you back to this mudball time, showing you what I did just so you could play tourist, did you?" Zachariah chided, continuing after a laugh. "No. I needed you to serve your purpose. Divide and conquer so to speak since to accomplish my goal I needed both Lucifer's vessel and that whore out of my way. You're going to do both for me…not that killing Sam will have any effect since Lucifer will just bring him back but…it'll keep him out of my hair."

"What hair?" 'Dean' shot back out of instinct. "You're bald! What the hell do you want with Dean and why was I so…" he stopped as it began to hit him fully a second before his fist slammed into the wall. "_Sonuvabitch!"_

"Dean is going to accept his destiny and you are going to take care of all the pesky pains in my ass that could stop him from saying yes to this," the Angel replied simply, chuckling. "You really have served your purpose well."

"You can't force Dean into accepting Michael!" the other 'Dean' argued, feeling eyes on him and refusing to look since he knew he did not want to see either the pain or the accusation in Morgan's eyes. "You know you can't! That didn't work with me and it won't with him because the more you try to make him the harder he'll fight you! Especially since he knows Sam's in danger," he remarked, knowing this since he still recalled how much he had fought against this very moment…until it was too late. "Dean will fight for Sam and for Morgan and you told me I was brought back here to do what he couldn't! Kill Sam before he accepts Lucifer in Detroit so…"

The short pause on the other end was more telling than anything the arrogant Angel could say when he finally did speak. "Well, not so much kill Sam since Lucifer would just bring the boy back unless you use the one method I mentioned but even killing Sam won't keep your time from happening," Zachariah began slowly, gazing down at the unconscious form of his current arch nemesis while his black suited enforcers took care of the other threat to this plan.

"I thought you wanted Sam dead!" 'Dean' shouted, feeling the slap to his head and nearly dropping to his knees as the emotions he'd buried for years threatened to come out.

"Why would I want Lucifer's vessel dead, you stupid mortal mudmonkey?" Zachariah snapped, always quick to anger. "Even if Sam Winchester should die, Lucifer will just continue with a generic vessel! I need Lucifer alive in order to ensure the proper results to this war! Therefore, I need Sam alive! I brought you back just to get Sam away from his brother and also to deal with that pesky little witch who can ruin my plans too easily. Her I want you to kill."

Giving a quick look over his shoulder, he noticed that Sam appeared to have finally settled down but he guessed the boy had calmed down only after Morgan used power that she wouldn't have had available yet since her lips were thin in a way he remembered all too well.

"You…switched the drug I brought," 'Dean' gritted, still seeing the young woman convulsing in his mind. "That sedative should only have knocked her out! What the hell did you switch it to?"

"Dean, that girl has the ability when she's healthy to wipe even Lucifer and Michael off the face of this planet if she's pissed off so to accomplish the plan, I really need her dead not just knocked out," Zachariah replied with a snort. "She's a wildcard in this that has to go and you…you were the perfect one to send to handle that for me since I knew that killing her would also bring Sam to you and I'd be able to get Dean without a hassle."

Blood running very cold, 'Dean' felt his anger building. Not only at the Angel but also at himself for falling for what was so clearly a set-up from the start. "I notice you didn't mention that before," he growled, fisting his other hand. "Just like you didn't mention to me in West Virginia that he'd hurt her. You knew damn good and well that I'd kill you for touching her. Are you so short sighted that you'd think I'd willingly kill a version of Morgan? That I've gone that cold that I'd be able to hurt her? Hurting Sam is hard enough since he hasn't gone that path yet but I know that I need to stop Lucifer from having him so that maybe Morgan won't have to die by his hand."

"Ahh, that," Zachariah sighed over the phone, as he knelt down next to his prize. "Dean, Dean, Dean, you really are as stupid as any version of you, aren't you?" he chuckled, removing a photo from the boy's pocket to sneer before tossing it away. "What did you see that day?"

"Come again?" feeling like his head wanted to explode, 'Dean' struggled to hold his temper. "I remember every damn moment of that night Morgan died, you bastard," he gritted, hating that the Angel could still make me feel this way. "I remember seeing Lucifer, seeing Sam, kill my wife and…"

"But you didn't see it, did you?" Zachariah spoke calmly but the tone immediately sent up all of 'Dean's senses. "You were too far away the night your pretty little wife, I am so glad this fool is too emotionally crippled to even think that far, confronted Lucifer. You didn't see him actually touch her, did you?"

About to snap of course he had, 'Dean' stopped in mid-growl as he flashed back to a night he'd buried in his memories. He and Morgan had fought about confronting Lucifer since she'd insisted that she could still save Sam if she could just get close to him. He'd refused the mere thought and had considered the matter settled…until she went alone.

'Dean' recalled vividly his panic as he fought through zombified crowds and other obstacles to get to where he knew both his brother and his wife would be. He hadn't seen the attack that took her life but he'd felt her fear, her anger and he'd heard her scream moments before he got to the spot where he found his Morgan lying in the arms of what had been his brother and he had stopped caring about anything.

Something in Zachariah's question though made him think harder on the moment he stepped up to see his wife, the love of his life and the only other person besides his brother that he cared for, bleeding bright red against the pure white suit and finally the words registered. He'd ignored the words that came from his brother's mouth that night because he wouldn't listen to Lucifer but…the way he'd held her, the way he was rocking her as the tears run down his face and… " 'I'm sorry, Dean. I tried to stop them but…she pushed me away and Lucifer hasn't regained…I couldn't save her from…'"

"You son of a bitch," he gritted in the low lethal tone that only rage could bring to his voice as he finally realized what had been said. "Sam/Lucifer didn't touch her. _You_ killed her! You killed Morgan before she could fully remove Lucifer from my brother!"

"Very good and it only took you how long to figure that out," Zachariah laughed in amusement, nodding to his men. "I couldn't have let her ruin it by taking Sam out of the equation so at a moment that I sensed she would be too weak to counter both me and Lucifer, I ripped out the heart that you loved so much in her, Dean. Of course, I wasn't expecting Lucifer, on Sam's behalf, to fight back, but the boy was too weak to save her and you did everything else. Did you know that if you had reached out to your brother that night you possibly could have saved him and the world because Lucifer was on the ropes right then and Sam could've pushed him out…had he still had a reason to."

Emotions were building as he fought to bury them again but the rage at finally learning the truth was blinding him until he heard the soft voice murmuring gentle words to keep Sam calm and he swore. "You killed my wife, you caused all that to happen and now you think you'll do the same thing to him?" he demanded tightly, giving a dry snort. "You think I'll let you hurt this time's Dean and what he loves? You seriously think that I'll let you do this to them? Zach, you are seriously off your Angel meds if you…"

"No, I know you're going to do what I sent you for," Zach broke in coolly. "You will kill that girl and you will deal with Sam Winchester while I explain things to his big headed brother."

"Give me one damn good reason to why I would," 'Dean' snapped, not sure if he should be feeling angry or sick at these revelations. "Give me one damn good reason that I don't find you and use that shiny knife to shove it in your heart?"

"Oh, I can give you two reasons why that wouldn't be a wise move," the Angel returned in a cold voice. "If you fail in this, I will make certain to put you back in the rotting earth where I dragged you up from and I will bring your precious wife back just long enough for you to see me kill her again, you tiny little maggot," he growled. "Do you understand me, boy?"

Fingers tightening on the phone, the older 'Dean' closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the wall. "Yeah, I understand you," he muttered through clenched teeth, hating this situation. "You'll never get Dean to agree to say yes, though. Not now."

"I think my friends can be just as creative in their ways as Alistair taught either you or your counterpart to be," Zachariah assured him. "Oh, and make sure the little witch screams before she dies. She ruined a perfectly good plan in West Virginia. Have fun, Dean."

Eyes closed, 'Dean' listened to the dial tone as his memories swamped him and he struggled to close them off again before he turned slowly to meet eyes that he knew still haunted him. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you've been played and that you're still being played," Morgan spoke quietly, not needing to hear the conversation to guess what had made this older more rugged face of her friend go white and now so tired. "Zach wants you to kill us so that he'll have open access to Dean, right?"

"Something like that," he admitted, laying the phone aside and catching the way she tensed at his approach. "How's Sam?" he asked in a way to try to change the subject but when he went to reach to touch the younger man he felt the shock go up his arm and sighed. "You keep using your powers and all it'll do is make you to weak when he really needs you."

Morgan knew that because she could feel the pain and nausea threaten every time she used her powers right then and she also knew she was still risking another seizure if she wasn't careful but Sam was her main goal right then. Protecting Sam and getting free of this house to find and help Dean.

"Sam hasn't had a vision since right before he died in Cold Oak so this took a toll on him," she replied, letting her fingers smooth down the younger man's tense face while eyeing the older 'Dean'. "You can try to kill me but if you think I'll let you touch Sam, I'll burn you from existence and take the chance of my powers flipping out."

Feeling the house shake and knowing that the salt by the door would only hold this thing out for so long, 'Dean' decided to was time to handle one crisis at a time. "It won't matter if we don't deal with witchy-poo outside," he told her, grabbing the files up and tossing them at Morgan. "Find where you stopped and see if you can't figure out her weakness or a spot to start looking for those bones while I check his back."

Not liking the idea of someone else touching Sam, Morgan started to refuse until her hand decided to shake and she realized that she couldn't stitch the boy up if he needed stitches. "Fine, but don't hurt him or…"

"Yeah, I'm toast. I got it," 'Dean' muttered, waiting until she glanced away to smirk but felt it die off the second he lifted the back of Sam's shirt to see not only the still livid scars from Zachariah's last two attacks on him but also a deep gash that must have been made by falling or being tossed into something. "Damn it, Sammy," he whispered, not realizing he'd lapsed back to using the more familiar nickname that Sam, probably any version, would fight unless it was one of the few people he allowed to use it.

"Want to tell me why you hadn't dealt with this bitch before?" he asked mildly, catching the first aid kit that bounced off his chest after it was tossed at his head. "You have all the groundwork laid out so you should've been able to…" 'Dean' stopped as something dawned on him. "You couldn't deal with her because you still don't have the power. You were waiting for either Robinson or MacShayne to show up," he realized while threading a needle and beginning to clean the wound. "You should've had power back for a simple witch…what have you been…oh, shit. What the hell have you been doing behind their backs?"

Scowling at him, Morgan turned her attention back to the one file she'd just started to read when he threw her plans into the trash. "Just stitch him up so he won't bleed anymore and watch what you do to him."

Not commenting on the mild unspoken threat, 'Dean' noticed that she'd occasionally reach over to touch the boy in order to keep him calm since they didn't have anything to knock him out with. As he stitched the gash, he noticed several scars that he hadn't seen before in West Virginia and realized they'd been inflicted after he'd left. Making the final incision, he waited to see if it would hold before breaking the thread, covering it with some antibiotic cream he found and then a piece of gauze. "Assuming the witch doesn't toss him around anymore."

"Ain't noone tossing him around, including you," Morgan shot back, tossing him a sheet of paper. "This house was built about a hundred years or so later on the site of the original homestead. The basement is original to the land and according to all the stories, the witch's body was brought back here by her family and buried someone in the basement."

A shrill scream could be heard as the witch's spirit began a new rampage and the house shook violently. "Well, she's clearly pissed so finding the right spot shouldn't be hard," 'Dean' decided, surprised how easy this was coming back to him. "The trick'll be staying alive long enough to dig it up and then salt and burn the bones. Did you have a plan for that or was Jack just going to pull some mystical crap?"

"No, he was however going to deflect her while Kel did the digging," Morgan shot back, eyes shooting to Sam a second before he groaned. "Sammy? You feeling alright now?"

A thousand Irish step dancers seemed to be pounding their way through his head at that moment so 'alright' wouldn't have been how Sam described his condition when memory shot back and his eyes opened only to slam back closed in pain. "Argh, God!" he groaned, feeling like covering his head, finding a dark hole to crawl in and dying until the other voice managed to break through and he remembered… "Dean."

"Sam," Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder to feel it shaking. "When did you start having them again?"

"I…haven't had one since before Jake stabbed me, Morgan," the younger Winchester argued, voice quiet like it usually was after a bad attack or when he was uneasy. "Dean's in trouble ain't he?" he asked, hazel eyes that were three times larger than normal shot between her and the older version of his brother. "That's why you lured me here. So Dean would be alone at Bobby's and…oh my God."

Thinking the same thing as Sam, Morgan bit her lip. "Bobby's fine, Sam," she tried to make herself believe that but knew he didn't when his gaze landed on the older man and his already curled hand went into a fist a moment before he lunged. "Sam! Well, this is working out so bloody well and my mystic is so dead."

"You set him up! You knew my brother was sick and you went after Morgan in order to separate us so he could be attacked by that sadistic sonuvabitch!" Sam yelled, fear and pain blinding him to anything but how stupid he'd been to leave his older brother alone when they both knew he was a target of not only the demons who wanted him dead but the Angels who wanted to use him. "How could you do that to you…him…or…"

Instinct made 'Dean' grab the boy's arms when he was slammed back into the wall but it was more than just a warning glare from Morgan that kept him from finishing the counter move that could've freed him. It was the fear, the pain, and the loss he saw reflected in Sam's eyes that kept him still because those eyes were a haunting reminder of his own brother's eyes on a night that 'Dean' had lost everything.

He took the first few fists to his face until heard Morgan trying to break them apart and knew that Sam's rage at him was too deep to allow him to listen to her. "Sam!" he snapped, finally grabbing onto the bloodied fist as it was about to strike for a fourth time and pulling the younger hunter closer to him in order to keep his attention centered on him. "I didn't know that Zach was planning a move on Dean," 'Dean' told him firmly, tightening his grip to keep Sam from shrugging off his friend. "He didn't tell me that. He didn't tell me a lot of things but the only way to help your brother is to make it outta this hell house in one piece and to do that you're going to have to suck it up and help me torch some bones!"

"Sammy, let him go," Morgan didn't want to have to push it when she knew Sam was just reacting to a threat in the most usual Winchester style but she also knew that the older 'Dean' was right…as much as that admission disgusted her. "Sam! We'll…" she was starting to speak when the bedroom door was suddenly slammed open in a strong burst of ice cold wind that took the startled young woman by surprise when it knocked both her and Sam to the floor.

"Shit!" Sam took the blow as he tried to shield his friend from harm when the old wooden dresser in the room began to have its drawers shoot out violently. "Dean hates witches? I hate witches who can do this!" he snapped, feeling the stitches in his back pull as he dropped back down to pull Morgan down as she'd gone to stand up to try to counter the flying furniture. "Stay here!"

Seeing where his weapon was across the room, Sam started to move toward it but found himself put off balance by a powerful shove that knocked him out of the bedroom with a painful grunt.

"Sam!" Morgan pushed back to her feet only a moment behind 'Dean' who yanked her behind him while snatching a shotgun from the floor and hitting the hall just in time to see the now visible form of the very witch in question pin Sam to the wall nearest the railing.

Recognizing the danger, 'Dean' took a rapid glance over the railing to check things before lifting the shotgun. "Hey, bitch!" he shouted, finger touching the trigger. "Why not take another taste of this, you butt-ugly hag!" he taunted, seeing the ghost's hand waver and swearing under his breath. "Sam, go limp!"

"Go limp?" Morgan had just stepped into the hall and was in time to hear the shotgun go off and to see the ghost whip Sam over the second floor banister without any warning or any way to catch himself. "Sammy!" she screamed, throwing out a hand to try to use what power she had to stop his fall but felt the sick feeling build when nothing happened and she heard the loud sickening thud of a body landing hard. "No! Sam!" starting to whirl to lash out at the older 'Dean' she was startled to feel the shotgun being shoved into her hands.

"Get to Sam and stay with him!" 'Dean' yelled as he grabbed her pistol and took off down the steps with the now furious witch chasing him. "Keep the damn shotgun handy and leave her to me!"

Hesitating a second, she swore under her breath while shouting for a mystic that may or may not be able to get in before taking the steps as fast she could right then to drop next to where Sam had landed and wasn't moving. "Sammy?"

Sam had crashed to the center of the foyer, luckily missing any furniture or sharp objects, but laid still as a thin line of blood trailed from his temple.

The sound of loud cursing and her 9mm pistol going off reminded Morgan that they weren't out of danger yet as she carefully began to run her hands over Sam's limbs to check for broken bones when she felt him stir with a groan. "Sam? Don't move. You'll be fine or Dean'll kill me and…"

"He's…right," Sam muttered with a weak moan, hissing as he opened his eyes to try and focus on worried blue eyes. "Witches…suck."

"Yeah, we'll be sure to frame that the second we're outta here, luv," she replied, relief huge as he struggled to push himself upright and felt every inch of him ache as Morgan's hands gently helped him into a sitting position. "Don't move yet. You fell from…"

Letting his eyes move up, Sam gauged how far he'd fallen and could feel the concern from Morgan as she quickly tried to keep him still but he noticed something else. He noticed that this sudden movement was taking a bad toll on his still sick friend. "I'm fine, Morg," he assured her, figuring he could bluff that so long as he didn't have to move too fast or at all since he felt every rib as he got to his feet just as another round went off. "Take the shotgun, lock the door to the dining room and blast anything that isn't me or…him," Sam told her, seeing the iron fireplace poker handy. "I'll go help…this Dean."

"You just fell over a bloody railing to crash onto a floor, Sam. I don't think going after a ghost who seems to have it in for you a smart move," Morgan argued, rolling her eyes against the stubbornness of Winchesters as Sam was nudging her into the dining room. "I can at least…"

"Too big a chance of her going after you or you having another seizure before that drug is out of your system fully," Sam remarked, seeing the counterargument start and dropping the one line that he knew she wouldn't argue with. "Dean's in trouble, Morgan. I know it and you know it. The only way we can help him is to survive this mess and that means helping that 'Dean' deal with the witch," he knew the second she dropped her eyes to the necklace she wore that he'd worn this round. "Stay here. I'll be fine."

"Bloody well better be, Sammy," she muttered, guessing that whatever spell had locked the house down was also keeping Jack out. "Wonder if that works for Angels?"

Unaware of what was happening upstairs, 'Dean' was swearing he was better off fighting crazy zombies in his own time than some whacked out witch's ghost as he rolled after being tossed across the basement for the sixth time. "Babe, just as soon as you take a break I am so salting and burning you!" he snapped, feeling something hit the back of his head as a heavy piece of wood flew from a shelf and left him seeing stars. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

Luring the ghost into the basement hadn't been a smart move but he had to lure it away from the kids so he'd take his chances. That was the plan until she started tossing him around the basement. "This is why I hate witches!" landing hard on his side, 'Dean' snarled a curse when he caught sight of a half dug hole that he realized must have been the witch's gave. "Now if I could just finish it without getting…Damn!" he snapped as a sharp hoe flew at his hand as the spirit approached him with hate in black eyes. "Y'know, you've manage to do this curse thing real good until you came up against people who fought back," 'Dean' taunted, rolling closer to the hole to see that it only needed a little more digging. "You're so confident that you're going to kill me and then go after the kids upstairs. Well, I have one thing to tell you, sister. Never underestimate a Winchester when he's pissed off."

The iron poker struck straight through the spirit's form, instantly causing it to vanish if for not long as Sam frowned. "My brother would have been a bit more vocal in that taunt," he pointed out, eyes sharp as they looked out for the ghost. "Dean's always good at taunting things that want to kill us."

"That's why I learned early on that some taunts aren't wise, Sammy," 'Dean' replied, getting to his feet to grab a shovel. "She'll be back so keep an eye out. This shouldn't take long," he dropped into the hole to being to dig when he heard a groan. "Hey…I'm sorry she tossed you."

"I've been tossed by worse," Sam shrugged, keeping his eyes alert for the ghost while watching the older version of his brother dig. "Besides, you still want to kill me so what's a little fall over a rail."

The shovel stilled for a moment before it began again as the shotgun was heard from upstairs. "Shit! She's gone after Morgan," 'Dean' muttered, feeling the shovel hit something. "Yahtzee," he muttered upon seeing that the bones hadn't been buried in a box but just in a shallow grave. "Toss me that stuff."

"Hurry up and do it," Sam urged, hearing the shotgun again before the upstairs went deathly quiet. "I don't know how long Morgan can hold her off," he'd just tossed the bag with the salt and lighter fluid over when he felt the cold a second before his arm was sliced with a sharp blade.

"Sam!" 'Dean' saw the movement a second before the boy grabbed for his arm and lashed out with the poker only to miss since he had never been as strong with his left arm. "Hang on!" he urged, dumping salt on the exposed bones quickly followed by the lighter fluid as he dug for the lighter he always carried.

The witch had tossed the axe blade to strike the taller intruder in the head but screeched when he barely dodged it. "Die!" she screamed before a whoosh sound made her turn to see the fire burning in the exposed hole.

"Your turn, bitch," 'Dean' smirked, stepping around the burning hole as the spirit went up in a screaming howl before vanishing. "I still say, I will hate witches until I…well, what might be a bad phrase since I've been dead…oh, never mind," he decided to shut up before grabbing Sam's good side before he fell over. "How bad she cut you?" he demanded, not waiting for the stubborn boy to answer and just looked for himself and whistled. "Shiiit, this is going to take more than a couple stitches, Sam."

Trying to shrug him off since he still didn't want anyone but his Dean or Morgan to touch him, Sam was moving away when a shout caught his attention. "Morgan!" he called back, not wanting her to try to come down the worn steps. "Let me get her out of this house and maybe call one of her people to be with her and then we can finish this," Sam murmured, walking away with the hope that he didn't get nailed from behind.

"If only it would be that easy, Sam," 'Dean' sighed, reaching into the pocket of his worn green military style jacket to look at a battered photo of a time in his life when he actually remembered how to smile. As he stared into the bright blue eyes of the woman standing in between him and his little brother, he recalled the cruel threat Zachariah made. He knew that maybe it wasn't Sam's fault that Morgan had died but if Lucifer hadn't taken him she wouldn't have been put in the position she had.

He knew that Lucifer would probably bring this boy back if he died but not if Dean did it right and while it might not change his time, maybe it would save this one. Maybe it would give this younger version of himself a chance to have what he never had. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered, laying the shotgun aside to reach under his jacket for the backup pistol he always carried and prayed he'd be forgiven by the other person he loved. "Forgive me, Angel. I can't bring you back and I can't change what happened but at least I can give these two a shot at what we couldn't have."

"Sam Winchester, answer me!" Morgan was leaning in the basement door a half second away from going down when Sam met her and she waited until he'd cleared the door to grab him. "Try answering me when I scream for you and I'm already freaked, Sammy!" she told him, feeling him return the hug with only one arm and then she saw the blood soaking his right sleeve. "Sam! What the bloody hell…"

"Ghost got lucky with a blade, that's all," he assured her soothingly, noticing that the shutters had opened again. "You alright?" Sam tried to give his friend a close look but knew by the way she wasn't looking right at him that she was hurting. "Let's get outside and yell for Jack or call Cas or…" he felt the change in the air and was already spinning around to shove Morgan behind him when the sound of a pistol cocking reached him. "Let her go."

Morgan didn't understand what Sam was doing as she seemed to be getting dizzy again until she caught sight of the gun aimed at him. "No! You can't…" she began to move when strong fingers kept her behind him. "Sam?"

"Go outside and call Castiel on my phone or call Jack, Morgan," Sam told her softly, keeping his eyes on the hardened gaze of this colder 'Dean'. "He won't hurt you. It's me he wants."

"No, it's not," she whispered, knowing this before green eyes looked at her and she read the sadness. "Zach wants me dead, Sammy and he wants 'Dean' to do it or he'll kill him again and…"

Risking a sharp glance back at her, realization setting in and Sam tightened his grip while mentally shouting for that mystic who always seemed to be popping in when his brother didn't want him to. "Okay, wait a minute," Sam began, desperately trying to think of a way to help both his brother and his friend. "You know that Zachariah won't keep any promises he's made. He's still likely to kill you to keep any of this from getting back to his bosses."

Hearing the honest desperation in the boy's voice now, 'Dean' nodded. "Yeah, I know that given all that he's lied about," he agreed, not lowering the gun. "I know that nothing I do here will affect my timeline, Sam but it might do something to help yours or…"

"If both Morgan and I die here then there's no one to save my brother," Sam cut in, taking a cautious step forward but not making any moves of aggression. "I know that you loved your…wife, God that's weird to say, because I know how much my brother loves her and I really hope that you can't bring yourself to hurt Morg again but I'm willing to make you a deal."

"Sam, what're you…" Morgan started to ask when he just looked over at her and she understood what he was offering. "Sammy, don't do…"

'Dean's' eyes glanced between them as he read the consigned look of Sam's body with a slight frown. "What…what type of deal?" he asked warily, feeling the muted link with Morgan register her fear.

Swallowing the lump that was forming, Sam took a deep breath. "If you help me save my brother, help me get Dean back from Zach before it's too late and you swear that you won't ever harm Dean or Morgan then…after I have him back and I know that they're both safe…you can try to kill me and I won't stop you," he declared in what he was amazed was a steady voice.

"Sam, no!" Morgan shouted, taking a step toward him when the gun was raised to aim at Sam's heart. "No…"

"I can't do that, Sam," 'Dean' murmured, moving his finger toward the trigger while trying to avoid the sad look of acceptance in the boy's hazel eyes and the pure panic in Morgan as he touched it. "I'm…sorry, Sammy but I have…to do this. Forgive me," he whispered, touching the trigger with a whispered prayer for himself.

**TBC**

**A/N: **_How will Sam get out of this one? Will this 'Dean' change his mind? Will a pesky Angel show up? How will anyone get to the real Dean in time to keep Zachariah from hurting him too bad and allowing Michael to claim his vessel? Oh, and what happened to Bobby when the Angels grabbed Dean? Come back for Chapter 5 to see._


	5. Chapter 5

**Mirror Images**

**A/N: **_Let me apologize to all the readers who have been waiting for this update. I am deeply sorry it's taken this long to get this chapter up. I've had some personal issues to deal with that has made concentrating on writing difficult so giving Sam and Dean the full attention they deserve made this take longer. Thank you for your patience and I will certainly try to have CH 6 up far sooner._

**Chapter Five**

As his finger wavered on the trigger, 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 found himself staring into the deep hazel puppy dog eyes of a boy that wasn't his brother but who was exactly like his Sam had been until the night Lucifer took him.

After being brought back to this time by Zachariah, it didn't take him long to figure out that while he and his younger self's lives were the same in some aspects, they were different in others. He had allowed himself to fall too far into despair after returning from Hell and there was always the tiniest part that did blame his brother for what happened afterwards. Only his marriage to his Morgan had kept him from crawling into a bottle or losing his mind.

This time's Dean had never had those feelings of blame for his brother. He'd never once blamed the boy for what happened to him in Hell or for what he became at Alastair's hands. Of course, he also didn't have Morgan with him until just recently.

Now as he stared into Sam's eyes, 'Dean' could recall a similar look in his brother's eyes the last night he turned away from him…the night he blames him from killing Morgan. Glancing over to meet the eyes of this younger version of his wife, he felt every emotion in her and knew that she was trying to push for power that still wasn't stable right then and made a choice that he hoped he wouldn't come to regret.

"Alright," he let his finger slip away from the trigger and lowered the weapon with a resigned sigh. "I'll help you get Dean back from that asshole and I…won't hurt her but after that…you keep your end of that deal or all bets are off, Sam," 'Dean' stated firmly, putting the gun back under his jacket to hold out a hand. "Agreed?"

Not fully trusting this change of heart, Sam knew he was out of options so he reluctantly shook the extended hand and noticed the jagged scar running across the wrist but kept silent on that. "Agreed," he nodded, turning to grab for Morgan before she could go for the older man's throat. "We need him to find Dean, Morg," he told her, keeping his touch firm enough to hold but not to hurt as he locked eyes and read the concern and doubt. "It's my choice. Please let me do this."

"Let you let this son of a bitch kill you over something you didn't do in his time and that may not affect this time?" she scoffed, remembering how exasperating both Winchesters could be though it was rare for Sam to make her want to slap him. "You think Dean will allow this to happen, Sammy?"

Taking a moment to consider this, Sam merely looked over his shoulder before he shrugged. "I think to keep you safe that Dean'll have to," he replied, swearing he'd protect his friend and his brother first and then worry about himself later. "Now, we need to get back to…"

"What in the hell is going on?" an outraged voice demanded as a flash of power announced the arrival of a highly pissed off mystic. "I've got Castiel screaming at me because something happened at Singer's place, I've got my brother shouting in my ear because something's going wrong here and up until fifteen minutes ago this place was nothing but static and…" Jack MacShayne's gaze finally took in the scene and immediately landed on the one thing that was totally out of place. "Huh. Sammy-boy, that is so not the brother that should be here and if he touches that gun, I'll mop the floor with him," he warned, hand moving slightly. "I guess Uncle Zach's up to no good and…what's wrong with you?"

"I am so firing you, Jack," Morgan shot at him, turning from Sam too quickly and only a quick hand kept her from going too off balanced. "I've had a crazy witch's ghost, that you were supposed to help me deal with, trying to toss Sammy all over the bloody house, I've had this moron showing up to use me as bait for Sam after he drugged me with something that is still making me feel really weird and…"

"Yep, that hasn't changed," 'Dean' muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose in the expectation of the mystic's reaction to that rambled complaint. "She babbles when she's sick or hurt. This could get ugly."

Jack's eyebrow lifted as he listened to the young woman continue to chew him out but when she switched languages he finally decided he'd heard enough and shot Sam a dark look. "Winchester, that thing your brother swears to me is a car is outside. Take Morgan and put her inside while I have a couple words with this guy," he gave a quick jerk of his head toward the door and knew the hunter guessed that it wasn't a suggestion as he began to ease his friend outside.

"Morgan, let's go out to the Impala and give Bobby a call," he urged quietly, catching the jacket that was thrown at him. "Jack, if Dean catches you insulting the Impala he'll find a way to exorcise you."

Rolling his eyes, Jack wasn't impressed but thought to call out as an afterthought. "Don't call Singer! Just wait until I get you there!" assured that Sam could handle his friend for that little bit of time, his eyes flashed to cobalt as he turned to face the older 'Dean'. "Drugging my boss is a one way ticket to hell but working with Zach and trying to kill Sam? That's an even faster ticket."

"That's between me and Sam, MacShayne," 'Dean' replied, moving to walk past the irate mystic when he found himself grabbed around the throat by an invisible fist.

"So long as I have a piece of paper in my hand that says that both Sam and Dean Winchester are to be protected at all costs, including bodily harm to yours truly, then anything that involves them…involves me," he growled, taking a closer look at this man and giving a disgusted sigh. "Man, Zachariah's got you by the short hairs. He'll kill you the second he finds out you've agreed to help Sam and the boss find… okay this is going to be too weird."

Nodding, 'Dean' glanced out the door to see the Sam was leaning up against the driver's side of the car to talk with Morgan who was still gesturing as she spoke from the rear. "I'll take my chances and maybe Sam'll be lucky and Zach kills me. That way he won't have to worry about keeping his end of the deal he made."

"Ain't no way in hell I'm letting some psyched out version of Dean kill that kid. I've been keeping Angels and demons from doing that damn same thing," Jack muttered to himself, giving the now quiet house a brief scan to check it out before snapping his fingers to remove anything that belonged to either Sam or Morgan before making a note to tell the local boys to burn this place to the ground. "Okay, let's go see what Castiel is bitching about and remind me to duck in case that junk man has that stupid shotgun handy," he decided, eyeing the car and swearing this was the last time he tried this spell.

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota: Singer Salvage Yard:**

"I oughta blast your ass so full of buckshot that you couldn't sit down for a year and you'd leak like a damn sieve when ya drank, boy!"

The loud outraged voice of Bobby Singer could be heard as soon as Sam Winchester's ears stopped ringing after having himself, his friend, his brother's car and the guy who looked way too much like his brother transported in a wave of a hand from Massachusetts to South Dakota.

"Jack, I know Dean bitches about Cas's way of travel but you have got to be way worse, man," he muttered, grabbing for the side of the car as he struggled to keep what was left in his stomach inside. "Next time we drive! It only took me 16 hours when I drove to find Morgan."

"Sure and that's sixteen more hours that Zach will have his grubby mitts on your big brother," Jack returned, refusing the urge to throw up himself when the sound of a shotgun was heard. "Trust me, Sammy. That is not something we want and who the hell is he shooting at since I haven't stepped foot inside yet?"

Grunting as the door slammed into his thigh, the mystic was frowning as he took in the outside of the junkyard and could immediately see things that he was glad the others couldn't…or at least Sam and the future version of Dean couldn't. "Boss…"

"How'd they break the sigals around this place?" Morgan demanded, not feeling good anyway and that transport didn't help her. One look had the link she shared with Dean screaming images at her and only a quick grab by a strong, callused hand kept her from falling. "No one should've been able…"

'Dean' had been watching both her and Sam for reactions and wasn't surprised when Morgan showed the most emotion since she could see what must have happened when Dean was attacked. While his presence in this time muted the link somewhat, it didn't block it so he knew what she must be seeing because he could feel what she was and didn't like it.

"Bobby's place is only guarded so far past the house," the future 'Dean' told her grimly, feeling her eyes shoot to his a moment before she started to round on Jack in preparation to skin him alive when he tugged her toward the house after he snagged Sam's jacket. "Let's go, kids. Time to go give Bobby a thrill."

Kneeling to pick up a crumpled photo he'd noticed tossed in the mud, Jack's head spun. "No! That might not be a…crap!" he hissed, knowing if what Castiel said was even half true the older hunter was just not going to happy with this news.

"Those boys are supposed to be safe here!" the outrage in Bobby Singer's tone was plain but so was the pain he was clearly going to keep hidden. "I thought those fancy carvings didn't let the Angels find Sam or Dean so how in the hell…"

"The Enochian symbols Castiel burned into the ribs of the Winchester brothers do keep them hidden from the Angels, Mr. Singer…but it won't keep them hidden from the eyes of normal humans," a serious male voice was speaking from the library. "My Uncle located Dean the same way he did before, only in this case you have a very well meaning, completely zoned out ex-hippie living down the road from you."

The voice tugged at something in Sam since he believed he'd heard it before. It wasn't until he noticed the strange expression that came over the face of the older 'Dean' and the way Morgan tensed a second before she began muttering to herself about stupid mystics never being where they needed to be until it was too late that he realized this was someone new.

"That fruitcake down the road who was up here last week just after the boys showed up trying to sell me soy candles is a mole for the Angels?" the older hunter sounded like he didn't know to be outraged or amused. "He's the best they can get? Sam! You ain't been able to tread easy in my house since you were fourteen and hit that growth spurt! Get your ass in here and tell me what the hell…oh sweet Holy…"

The battered older man who had thought his worst moments recently had been a toss-up between losing the use of his legs, losing two close friends and wondering if boys who were more like his own sons would self destruct now found himself wondering if he'd dropped into an episode of the Twilight Zone…a really bad episode.

"Bobby…what happened in here?" making sure to be the first one to step into the library, Sam was surprised to not only see his friend looking bruised and mussed but also to see several piles of books had been knocked over along with a shelf while the desk had been moved across the room. The most startling thing was the still present corpse of one of Zachariah's enforcers who had clearly had his head zapped off.

Fingers tapping the sawed off shotgun lying across his lap, Bobby's eyes stayed locked on the man standing in the door to his library before finally moving back to Sam. Taking in the younger man's battered condition and the way he was making sure to keep himself between a guy who looked like a gruffer and colder version of the boy Bobby had just seen get Angel-napped and a young woman who was looking worse than Bobby felt right then.

"I'm guessin' my story ain't nowhere as interesting as the one you're gonna be tellin' me soon," he growled, jerking a thumb down to the floor. "Dean had gone outside to yell at you I figured when a little later I heard him scream. Since this was your brother I knew to make him sound like that then it was bad," he silently kept to himself how much he'd been wishing to have his legs again since he knew the boy still blamed himself for that too. "I was wheeling around to go check on Dean when this yoyo and a couple buddies jumped me."

"I thought this place was Angel proofed?" Morgan snapped, eyeing Ethan MacShayne with disgust before she turned to Castiel. "Where were you that this could happen?"

Hearing a low snort from behind, Sam knew this situation was going to turn worse than it was soon and since he felt like crap right then getting a handle on it sooner rather than later was important.

"You can't Angel proof this house without blocking Castiel, Morgan," Ethan was saying, rolling his eyes to his trench coat wearing relative in a way that meant he clearly didn't think that was a bad thing. "Now, as for why he didn't pick up the threat to the old man here since he's not blocked to Angel radar and we clearly picked up the attack on…"

"Eth, not helping me here," Jack pointed out as he stepped into the room a moment before his very upset friend decided to turn her power on his much older brother. "Sam! Control her since you're the only Winchester I have that she might listen to right now! You with the attitude that I hope his brother never gets, lose it before I send you back to where Zach found you and…Ethan, get this damn headless corpse outta here," he shook his head. "By the Gods but I forgot what dealing with mortals can be like and shut up, Cas."

Bobby shot mystic a sour look. "I wanna find a way to block you chuckleheads," he growled before shifting his full attention to the new arrivals. "So, I'm going to assume that asshole behind you is what caused you to swipe the Impala, which Dean so wanted a piece of you over, boy, and rush off on your own?" he knew the answer before the older man's cooler green eyes met his slowly. Bobby found that he couldn't read this older version of 'Dean' as easily since he kept his face neutral…or he did until a sound made everyone move.

Morgan had just been about to toss both mystics out of the house when only Sam's quick grab kept her from falling as her legs suddenly gave out.

"Easy," he shot 'Dean' a look that was a mix of hate and panic as he felt the way his friend had started to tremble and Sam feared the worst. "I thought you said the convulsions were over."

"I said that one was over," 'Dean' sighed, ignoring the snarling mystics and the confused Angel as he waited until the boy settled Morgan on the sofa seat by the window to kneel down. "I also remember telling you that she needed to be kept calm and resting until that drug worked its way out of her system since I have no clue what Zach switched mine out with."

Not wanting to rest or be immobile when she was beginning to feel more pain than she logically should be feeling, Morgan went to push both hovering men away when the burning pain shot a mere moment before the library started to go gray and she felt the firm grip of callused fingers on her neck again.

"Zachariah did what and exactly why is this 'Dean' from the future back in this time?" Castiel finally demanded only to have Jack shrug. "Sam's bleeding, Morgan's suffering from more than just convulsions, we have no idea where Dean is and I'm not liking the fact that Zachariah brought this one back to kill Sam and Morgan…"

A shotgun blast to the ceiling shut the room up. "Alright, that is it!" Bobby had heard enough, aiming the shotgun each time he stressed a point he made certain to keep his eyes firmly Sam. "I want answers in the next five seconds from someone or I start blasting," he warned, shooting Sam a look the younger Winchester recalled well from his youth. "First, get that dang blasted shirt off so I can see how bad you're bleeding and from where," he snapped, merely lifting a warning eyebrow before the boy could object. "Then tell me why I shouldn't just shoot this son of a bitch."

"Nice to see some things don't change," 'Dean' muttered sourly, wincing as the chair wheeled over and he felt the not so easy slap to the back of his head. "Hey! Controlling blood flow to her brain here."

"Boy if I thought you'd carry out that threat I'd take your damn head right now," Bobby warned but he'd been watching this older 'Dean' and noticing a couple things but right then he wanted to concentrate getting answers. "It don't take no genuis to figure out what happened here but let me see if I can still piece crap together."

Wheeling back to where his desk should've been, he snatched the tiny notebook Dean had been doodling in restlessly while Bobby had tried to double-talk his way around the answers he knew the boy would panic over. "Sam got a phone call that came from Morgan's cell because only she would have a ringtone like that and then he freaked which is because of you, I take it."

"Yeah, kinda," 'Dean' coughed, hating that he still couldn't look this man in the eye when he was using the lecturing tone that both Winchesters knew not to interrupt. "But, you don't know why I…"

"Boy, do I look like I was born yesterday?" Bobby scoffed, aiming the newly pumped shotgun toward both mystics. "One of you open your mouths and we see if you heal from a load of consecrated iron mixed in with the buckshot," he warned, rolling his eyes while seeing that Sam hadn't budged from beside Morgan even though he did finally remove his jacket and was struggling to get his one sleeve off. "Sam gets a call that makes him take off and then that bald jackass shows up on my door after Dean? Zachariah brought you back, dumped you in this time probably with some cockamamie story about how killing Sam would help your time all the while he was planning to double-cross you, kill Sam and probably the kid so they can't help save their Dean. How wrong am I so far?"

Knowing that Sam's hazel eyes were watching his every move, 'Dean' felt that muscle in his face tick but couldn't fault the older man's logic. He just hated that it was so clear to Bobby who hadn't even been told anything yet. "Fine, but that doesn't mean you know why I chose not to kill Sam…yet," he muttered, feeling and ignoring the slight tingle that shot up his fingers as he tightened his grip in warning. "No strength so let Sam fight his own damn battles for once."

"If she did that, I'd have less hassles," Jack remarked, giving his brother a dark look to remove the body while he tried to bring this back under control. "Sam, let Bobby check your arm," he urged, not liking how pale Morgan was going and realizing she was feeling too much. "She's still linked to Winchester."

"Her link to Dean could lead us to them," Castiel reasoned, not understanding the way the older 'Dean' looked at him but wasn't surprised when Sam shook his head. "With Dean blocked from me…"

"It could also kill her if she begins looking too deep," 'Dean' replied, shaking his head. "I keep forgetting how stiff you used to be. I guess I got used to the stoned, totally de-powered hippie like dude from my time who prefers to lead meditation lectures and orgies than…Sammy, stop choking!"

Sam had nearly choked on the water Jack had handed him at those words since he did not want images of his own brother's sex life much less that of their Angel friend.

"It's…Sam," he managed to get out, refusing to show how much those images were burning his brain while Cas seemed to also shift uneasily. "Only my brother and Morgan get to call me that."

Slowly Morgan seemed to be calming down enough that 'Dean' felt safe enough in releasing his grip but he waited until a comment from Castiel had Sam turning his attention away to let the back of his hand brush down her face and felt the fever again.

"There are other ways to find Zachariah and Dean without putting Morgan at risk," he put in, feeling her tense and wondering how much of that link he could block before she figured out what he was doing. "Maybe not as fast or as direct but I don't think he'd like knowing she got hurt worse trying to find him."

"Dude, Dean ain't going to like that fact that you hurt Morgan to begin with," Sam shot back, forgetting himself & moving his arm to reach for a blanket on a nearby chair when the slash in it reminded him it was there and he was quick to cover the sharp gasp but it was too late.

"Sam! Get your ass in the kitchen so I can look at that arm!" Bobby snapped, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Future boy, get your ass in there so I can decide if I should just blast you outta the damn water for going along with that bastard. Castiel, quit moaning under your breath about the mystics because before this is over my house will be blocked against something or someone and then I'm going down the road to pay that damn hippie a visit."

Seeming reluctant to leave his friend even if she was sleeping, Sam hesitated until he thought of his brother. The quickest way to help Morgan would be to get Dean back from the Angels who had grabbed him and the only way he could do that would be to get his own injury handled.

"Sam, the boss is sleeping and so long as she stays calm she won't have another seizure," Jack informed him once he noticed the younger man's hesitance. "She was lucky that this moron who has less actual brains than the fool I normally have to deal with just used one syringe since the drug was a poison that hasn't seen the light of day since Noah built the Ark."

Hearing this, 'Dean' felt his temper spike but remained silent since he guessed Sam would be upset enough at the news that his friend was meant to be poisoned when one question nagged him. "Long term effects, Jack?"

"And there's the part of Dean Winchester that altered reality or time can't change," Jack muttered darkly, shooting the older man a look that promised a painful injury later. "Your damn mouth pops open at the wrong time."

Having looked at the syringe that Jack had made certain to bring back with him, Castiel had known right off what the drug was. The fact that Zachariah had access to it hadn't made him happy since no Angel in the Garrison should've been able to get this. "She should be paralyzed, burning with fever, blind, and hallucinating by this point of…Ethan? Did you just slap me in the head?"

"Yeah, it's called shutting you up before either the boy or the old man with the damn shotgun decides to turn on us," the elder MacShayne remarked upon returning from disposing of the corpse and heard the end of the comment. "Cas, when Mother often said you weren't the brightest tool in Jacob's shed I thought she was exaggerating…until now. Shut up."

"No, she was only trying to keep us safe," Sam's thoughts had locked on the fear for his friend since he couldn't see his brother losing her and turning as cold and unfeeling as the man in front of him seemed. "You can heal her since Cas can't or Dean…"

Shooting the Angel a sour look, Jack was quick to take Sam by the arms but made sure not to touch the gash that was now bleeding more. "Sam, those effects would have hit the boss if your military buddy here had used both needles," he assured the young man, stepping down hard on the alternate 'Dean's' foot in case he was considering a comment. "Go in the kitchen with Singer so he can start to clean your arm and I'll make sure Morgan's sleeping alright."

Looking doubtful, Sam was on the verge of refusing until he lost that fight when Bobby wheeled up behind him to shove him toward the kitchen. "Hey! Grown man here!" he argued, wincing and remembering why not having Bobby at full height was often bad when the older man wanted to make a point.

"Then start actin' like it and get in there before you bleed out and leaving saving your idjit brother to these morons," Bobby told him, swearing he was going on vacation very soon.

"Do you plan on telling Sam the truth?" 'Dean' asked curiously, determined not to wince as his foot still throbbed even though his boots were steel toed.

Jack had knelt down to lightly run a hand over his employer's forehead and felt the mild fever along with the underlying strain of a link that was being muted by the time displaced version of Dean. Murmuring a soft spell under his breath, he hoped it would allow his friend to sleep more peacefully since he knew the moment Zachariah really started in on the older Winchester she'd be in near agony.

"Tell Sam what?" he slowly lifted his eyes to gaze at this colder version of the man he had just now gotten used to handling. "Do I plan on telling that kid that his friend, a girl he has always adored and looked up to…well you get the idea, will more than likely always suffer lasting after-effects from the drug you so helpfully shot her up with?" he asked calmly, not missing the familiar glint of anger that flashed in cold green eyes. "Do I plan on telling Sam that there is a very good chance that Morgan could still suffer a seizure before I get that drug out of her blood and that a serious seizure could kill her? No, I don't plan on telling him that and I'll tell you why."

Confident that his friend would rest now, the mystic stood to face 'Dean' fully and smirked when this version didn't back down from him either. "I won't tell him that because if I can't get his brother back from Zach soon it won't make a damn bit of difference if she has lasting effects or not," he went on in a harder tone but made certain to lower his tone so that neither Morgan nor Sam would hear him. "If I can't save Dean Winchester, this time's Dean, from Zachariah's brilliant schemes, he will lose the fight against Michael. Once Mike gets control of him, they will come for Sam and I can promise you without any doubt in my mind that Morgan will fight with her last breath to protect Sam and to force Michael out of Dean. I

know that my friend will die in that fight because she is the one thing that can alter this destiny crap and that's why Zachy wants her dead.

"Now, you tell me something," Jack paused as he closed Morgan's cold fingers around the muddy picture he'd found outside. "Do you plan on coming clean with them about what else Dean didn't find out from his trip to your time?"

The muscle in his face ticked as he made his already hard face completely blank. "Sam and Morgan know enough about me and how I screwed up. There's nothing more to tell," 'Dean' replied flatly, turning to walk away before an image was flashed in front of his eyes and he felt his stomach drop.

"Samuel John Robert Winchester," Jack mused thoughtfully, aware of how close he was pushing the older man but also wondering just how far he would go to accomplish his goals. "Or did that get changed when you let your version of Chuck and his wife take him?"

"Shut the hell up, mystic," 'Dean' gritted, trying to turn but anyway he moved the image of the bubbly, chubby cheeked baby boy in the arms of his mother followed him. "Don't do this to…"

Hearing Ethan in the kitchen assured Jack that he had the time he needed as he closed the pocket doors on the library but didn't release his image. "Zach and Lucifer aren't the only ones with access to the memories of your time, hotshot," he announced grimly, smiling when he caught that quick flash of concern on the other man's face. "I know what happened. I know why your wife was still too weak when she went to confront Lucifer. I know that if you had gotten your head outta your ass in Detroit that you probably could've stopped Lucifer from claiming your Sam. Yeah, I know that you were in Detroit the night it happened because the night that Sam finally gave in to the loss and despair he felt is the night your son was born in this very house wasn't it?"

Burning memories tried to come but he brutally shoved them aside to whirl on the all too calm mystic with hate plain. "My life, what happened before I lost my brother, has no bearing on this, on what I do back in this time and they do not need to ever know about…" 'Dean' bit off the word, unable to say it much like he hadn't been able to since the night he'd laid his son in a startled Chuck's arms. "…him because if it's the last thing I do this Dean will never have to make the same damn choices that I did."

"Yeah, I hope you're right too," Jack sighed, making a final check on his sleeping friend before following the now tense older 'Dean' to the kitchen just in time to grab the butcher knife that his brother had just thrown at their more dense Uncle. "Ethan, you make a mess again and I'll have to clean it up so…"

The words died off as he pulled the doors shut in order to muffle the muttered shouts and curses Sam Winchester was offering to both Bobby Singer and Castiel. Distracted by that, Jack missed the movement in the library or he would've been more cautious.

Waiting until she heard the pocket doors to the kitchen close and Jack start to yell, Morgan allowed her eyes to open. She was still feeling poorly and freely admitted that she just wanted to find a nice quiet place to curl up and sleep but that would wait until she found her friend.

Deciding it better not to tell Jack that his powers had little effect on her, Morgan pushed herself into a sitting position to look at the crumpled, muddy photo in her hand. It was the one photo that she knew both she and Dean still had copies of and she knew that if he had kept his all these years despite believing the lies he'd been told then someone else had taken the photo from him and it didn't take a huge leap to guess who.

"Damn bloody arrogant sod," she muttered sourly, vowing to burn that bald suit wearing Angel the first chance she got but her first priority was to locate Dean Winchester and that meant doing something she wasn't looking forward to.

Groaning as she felt mild pain go up her legs, she wasn't certain if it was the link with Dean or that damn drug that was causing her to weave so much as she grabbed the bag that she knew would have most if not all the things in it that she'd need. A quick check to be sure how Sam was doing, Morgan wished she could do more for him but knew she needed to concentrate as she quietly made her way to the front door to find the outside entrance to Bobby's basement and the panic room.

Hoping she could do this without passing out and wishing the basement door wasn't in the kitchen, Morgan was just thrilled to get outside and into the basement without having Sam or a time altered Dean on her back. Stepping into the panic room that was protected and shielded from nearly everything, she hoped it would offer enough shielding to allow her to do what she needed to.

Normally, just using the link she and Dean shared would be enough to find him. No matter where the Angels were hiding him, but with her being this weak and having the link muted by the presence of the other 'Dean' she knew she'd never be able to find him that way since she was certain Zachariah would've planned for that.

"Stupid Angels," she sighed, staring at the shakily made circle that she'd drawn on the floor in the center of the room Morgan sat down to slowly put out the other items she needed.

While she normally preferred to use her more normal abilities, Morgan would and could use the heavier side of her magical heritage if she felt a need and this was one time that she would risk the dangers. Having cast the circle and lit the candles, she dumped the proper herbs and crystals into a bowl before laying the tiny photo in the bowl and dropping the match to ignite it all with a sharp flash of blue light.

"Find him," she whispered, ignoring the burning pain, the dizziness and tingling she felt to bring into her mind a mental image of her friend. Tall, strong and cocky, she pictured Dean the last night here at Bobby's when they'd said goodbye. "Powers that are mine to command, I offer this image and the blood that once mixed with his to find this man who is in my heart. Go through mist, shadow, pitch and murk to seek and search. Find him now and allow me to see what he endures and where," Morgan chanted softly, clenching her teeth as pain increased far faster than she had expected but she didn't stop the spell as she finished the spell. "As this harms none, let it be. Blessed be…"

A final handful of herbs was added and the tiny bowl seemed to explode a second before brutal images of blood, fire, metal racks and chains flashed up into her mind along with the heart wrenching screams of a man in agony. Screams that she had heard only once before…in her nightmares the four months that Dean had been locked in Hell and Morgan new she was hearing her friend screaming. It was an image that came up with a brilliant clarity that took her breath and forced her nearly back out of the protective circle as searing pain took her breath. Watching the hand that raised the knife to continue to carve on the young man's chest made her sick and it was the fear and pain she felt that caused the powers she'd been holding back to flare the flames in the bowl.

"No," she whispered, hearing the choked scream Dean Winchester offered and reaching through the now burning flames to either try to get to her friend or stop his attacker. "SAM!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Mirror Images**

**Warning:**_ Just an FYI for later in the chapter, it does have scenes of violence. I tried not to be too descriptive but I wanted to put in the warning._

**Chapter Six**

"Sam, that cut needs more than a few damn stitches and some bandages," Bobby complained once he had a chance to look at the wound on the younger Winchester's arm. "Sit down and either let me give you something for the pain or let one of these chuckleheads knock you out while I clean it and stitch it."

Glancing at the still bleeding cut on his arm, Sam Winchester only shook his head but didn't refuse the glass of whiskey that the older hunter set in front of him. "Bobby, I've had worse cuts and I've stitched myself up from worse without any pain meds so just do it so I can get back to Morgan and work on finding my brother."

"When the hell'd you have worse and what the hell d'ya mean you stitched yourself up from worse?" the 'Dean' Winchester from 2014 demanded while Bobby choked at the mere thought of that.

Still unhappy with having this future version of his brother even in the house, Sam's gaze slid across the table and narrowed. "Dude, you may have my brother's face, some of his attitude and you may even sound like him but you are not my brother," he stated in a tone that worried both Bobby and the present mystics in the room. "Only three people can use that tone on me and Bobby's working up to it while thanks to you I don't know where Dean is and Morgan's still sick and can't use it on me so back the hell off."

"Okay, lets calm down since you've decided we need Future jerk here to find Dean," Jack MacShayne had finally decided to step in while giving his stone faced older brother a nod toward Sam. "First, you ain't stitching this wound up yourself Sam because I don't feel like having my head pounded in when the boss wakes up to find out about it," he warned, rolling his eyes toward Bobby. "This kid drove us insane the four months his brother was downstairs because I never knew when he went out if he'd come back with a gunshot wound, a knife wound or that damn demon skank. Of course, those wounds didn't come close to some of those he got after that whole Mystery Spot deal."

Not needing to be reminded of that job or the horrors he went through, Sam shot the mystic a sour look. "Blame the damn Trickster, not me for that," he muttered, hissing as his arm suddenly exploded in pain. "Hey! Warn me first!"

Smirking, 'Dean' shook his head while reaching for a clean cloth to wipe the blood and whiskey away that he'd just dumped over the slash in a way to cleanse it. "If I would've told you that I was about to dump whiskey over that arm, would you have let me?"

"No!" several voices snapped while Ethan MacShayne seemed amused at Sam's mention of the Trickster who caused Dean Winchester to die so many times in Florida a few years earlier and only a sharp look from Jack kept him from making the comment that was on his tongue. Instead, while Sam fought to keep from punching the colder, harsher version of his brother, he moved behind the boy to touch his arm.

"What?" Sam started to turn when 'Dean' grabbed his good arm to keep him still as if the older man knew what the mystic was about to do. However, after recent events Sam didn't like being touched by strangers and he did not want this future edition of 'Dean' to touch him but suddenly he felt the burning pain stop and he saw Castiel's face frown.

"Well, maybe you idjits will come in handy," Bobby muttered, leaning closer to watch at the gash in Sam's arm seemed to be closing and vanishing without leaving a mark. "He gonna be able to use that arm?"

Looking down, Sam was surprised to see the wound closing. "I…I don't understand," he muttered, noticing the mystic didn't seem to be straining in his attempt to heal the gash which confused him. "I don't get it. I've been pretty much immune to certain powers so I thought I'd be immune to you guys too. I mean Lilith's power just…"

Jack was quick to cover his grin with a hand while Ethan's smile was dry but very amused as he let his hand move down the young hunter's arm to be sure there had been no nerve damage. "Samuel, first we're not certain if that immunity is still in place and second Lilith's power is no where close to what I have so the odds are good you wouldn't be immune to me or my kind anyway since our Mother was once an Angel," he informed Sam, eyeing Castiel calmly. "Of course, if this one hadn't lost his mojo he could heal this without a problem."

About to say something, Sam's eyes slid to Bobby and started to open his mouth when the older man shook his head. "I ain't quite ready to deal with being indebted to them so don't ask that you're thinking about, Sam," Bobby told him seriously, knowing the boy felt bad about him being in the wheelchair but also not willing to deal with the mystics yet.

Sam began to object when he felt a slight squeeze on his arm, he glanced to see 'Dean' shaking his head at him as if warning him to let the subject drop for now, and with some reluctance, he did. Flexing his arm to be sure it felt alright, Sam was just about to stand up when the whole house seemed to shake briefly just before 'Dean's' face paled and a scream was heard from the basement.

"SAM!"

Jerking around, Sam knew the voice but also knew it wasn't coming from the library and that freaked him out more. "Morgan?" whirling for the basement he didn't wait for anyone or anything since he could tell by the tone that his friend was both afraid and in pain.

"How'd the hell she get in the basement and what the hell made the house shake?" Bobby demanded sourly, swearing that these kids were going to drive him insane but he was forced to let Sam go since he knew in the wheelchair he couldn't get downstairs any longer. "Get after him!" he snapped, not wanting Sam to face whatever this was alone.

Taking the basement steps two at a time, Sam moved quickly but moved even faster when he realized his friend was in the damn panic room. "Morgan!" he shouted as he jerked open the door and barely avoided the burst of flames that shot out if a quick arm hadn't pulled him out of the way in time. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, moving to go into the room to get to his friend only to be restrained. "Let go! Morgan's in pain! She needs help!"

"You go in there right now until she gets that damn power under control and it won't be me who kills you, Sam!" 'Dean' snapped angrily, knowing what the young British woman must have done and also what must have happened to have caused this reaction. He could see Sam's fear and understood it all too well since at one time he would have felt the same way. Now though he had to find a way to protect these two and his younger self before no one had a future.

"Shit! I hate her powers!" Jack snarled, throwing a hand up to stop anything from flying out of the room while reaching out to see if he could level his friend's abilities only to find himself thrown back into a wall of tools. "Goddamn it! You! You can use a part of that link she shares with Winchester. Get your ass in there and settle her down so I can find out what set this off!" he ordered, seeing that Castiel had gone to check on Sam while Ethan's power was shielding the more violent reactions. "Ethan! We are frying our Uncle at the first available moment!"

'Dean' wondered if even the mystics could handle Zachariah's out of control schemes but hearing the pained fear reflected in Morgan's voice as she cried out for her friend and seeing the flash that came over the link he could control. "Damn that son of a bitch," he growled, stepping into the panic room and feeling an odd feeling of unease.

He'd never liked this room in his timeline. He'd seen the inside too many times. Both when he'd been forced to lock his demon blood craving little brother up and…right after he returned from Hell and found himself chained down as he fought not to lose his mind. The room looked the same to him here as it had in his time but he fought to block those memories since he didn't need them on top of what else he was dealing with.

A quick look around told him that Morgan had known in her current state that she couldn't use the link to find Dean and had tried a spell but that it must have backfired on her. The duplicitous Angel would've expected something like that and had probably cast some kind of barrier that while keeping her from seeing their location it would allow her to either see or feel Dean's agony and that would've caused a reaction like he was facing now.

"Morgan!" he moved to the side only a half second before a metal cabinet crashed against the wall and he lunged to grab her out of the circle while using his foot to break the circle and hoped that would lessen the effects as he caught the spark shoot from the bowl in the center of it. "MacShayne, zap the bowl!" 'Dean' yelled to the snarling mystic who was now swearing in a couple dead languages.

A stiff wind removed the item in question and slowly things in the panic room calmed down while 'Dean' struggled to hold the shaking woman still until he finally gave up and just sat down on the floor to pull her against his chest to hold her tightly. "Stop fighting and let the images go," he told her firmly, surprised when he wasn't shoved away since he had expected to be slammed into the wall as soon as he touched her. "Morgan?"

Still hearing the brutal screams in her head, Morgan Harrison strained to not stop the pain she was in since at least that allowed her to know her friend was alive but she wanted to stop his pain. Hearing Sam arguing in the background told her that she hadn't accomplished this as secretly as she'd planned when the arms holding her finally sunk in.

"They're hurting him," she whispered, not caring how she felt by this point or if this stunt brought on another seizure, she wanted to find Dean and she wanted to stop his pain. "Why are they hurting him?"

"Because Zach wants him to suffer before he makes him accept Michael, darlin'," 'Dean' replied, hating that she or Sam would have to know this since he knew that Dean would fight to keep his brother and friend safe and that's how Zach would get him in the end. "No one's ever refused Zachariah before and your Dean has a hellava lot more attitude on him than even I did and that's bad."

Lifting her head from where it had lain on his chest, Morgan's eyes were glassy from exhaustion and shock when her hand clenched as a burning pain shot through her chest and she knew if she allowed it to happen the wounds could be shown via their link when a hand cupped her chin.

"Don't think about it because if you go that deep it'll hurt you more and he won't want that," 'Dean' warned firmly, looking up as Sam finally got free of Castiel to approach them. "I know you want to help him but hurting yourself won't do that so pull back and we'll find another way."

Morgan had been about to do just that until something flashed over that muted link that even made future 'Dean' go rigid and she refused to allow her friend to go through that agony any longer. She needed a location, she needed his pain stopped, and that meant pushing that link as much as she could right then and to hell with the damn risks.

"Damn that stupid bald…" 'Dean' was muttering when suddenly Morgan jerked in his arms and he saw the brief spot of white as her eyes rolled back. "Morgan!" he snapped, knowing what she'd done and swearing at himself for not expecting it. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

Sam had been about to reach for his friend when he saw her eyes roll back. "Morgan, no!" he knew what she did even as the older 'Dean' was swearing violently but the younger Winchester quickly picked up her without a strain to head upstairs. "She went in too deep, right?"

"Damn kid's looking to stop Dean's pain and find out where they are," 'Dean' growled, seeing both mystics and Castiel exchanging looks and guessing they also knew the risks that Sam wasn't considering. "Zach knows about the bond, Sammy. He knows if he hurts Dean that it'll bring either you or Morgan and that's what he wants. He'll destroy Dean to get Michael's vessel and he'll destroy Dean to get rid of Morgan since she's the one thing that can stop all of this crap."

Striding past a sputtering Bobby who was demanding to know what the hell was happening, Sam gently laid his friend down in the library and was looking around for something to use as a pillow since Bobby had clearly been throwing these at either Dean, when he'd been here, or an Angel when something was tossed at him.

"Use it. It'll hopefully help to ground her until I can find a way to bring her back," 'Dean' told him while muttering under his breath. "Just have to do that before she sees or hears too much or Zach figures it out."

Looking at the battered leather jacket, Sam swallowed thickly. It hurt to think of his brother being without the jacket but at least he knew Dean still had the amulet and he prayed that would continue to give his brother strength until he found him because Sam was not giving up until he had Dean back...no matter who or what he had to go through to get him.

Right then, he needed to concentrate on Morgan. She was paler than she had been and he hated how cold and clammy her skin seemed as he felt for a pulse before deciding to lay his brother's jacket over their friend for warmth while reaching for his to ball up to use as a pillow. "You can see what she sees, can't you?" he asked quietly, lifting his eyes to watch the older 'Dean' and caught the way he was clenching his hands into fists. "You feel a portion of the link Morgan shares with my brother so…what's she seeing that scared her so much that she'll try to reach him this way?"

"Sammy…" 'Dean' didn't want Sam to know what his brother was probably being put through but then he recalled what Zachariah had put the younger Winchester through and figured the boy would be thinking the most horrendous things anyway…most of which he'd probably be right about. "Can you feel Dean, Sammy?"

"It's Sam…and no," the hunter admitted slowly, noticing that Morgan's hand had reached up to grasp the silver heart necklace that Dean had given her but that her face had paled even more. "She can sense me and sometimes I guess because of that I can get a sense of Dean but it's nothing like what they share or what…"

"Don't bring my life into this, kid," 'Dean' warned sharply, noticing that Sam had moved closer to Morgan on instinct when he changed his voice. "Sam, as your Dean figured out, what I faced in my time made me a hell of a lot colder and harder than what you're brother is today," he looked between the two younger people while his memories circulated of his own past and the memories in this house. "My…wife and my brother, you I suppose we can say, were the most important things in my life and when I lost that I stopped caring about everything and…everyone. Thinking about what I've lost and why…it's not easy on me."

Looking down, Sam let his eyes stay on this friend for a moment but noticed that the future version of his brother was twisting the wedding band he still wore. "Can you get Morg back into her mind before…"

"That's the plan, kiddo," 'Dean' replied with a cocky smirk that he really didn't feel but he also knew that Sam wouldn't respond well to his next suggestion. "If I ask you to go take a shower or get something to eat, would you?"

A pure Sam Winchester bitch face was shot at him as Sam just opted for one of his 'you aren't serious' looks but a whimper from beside him cased him to glance down a second before a fast and sharp nerve pinch struck his neck and Sam felt his consciousness go dark.

"Sorry, Sammy, but this is better for both of us if you miss out on what's coming," 'Dean' sighed, grabbing for the boy before he could fall and placing him in the old recliner Bobby kept in the room before focusing on Morgan. "Damn, this is gonna hurt."

Taking a guess on how long he had before either Sam woke up and took him out. A hotshot mystic decided to fry him for this stunt, or Zachariah learned how close Morgan was to finding Dean, the future Dean moved to sit beside her, placing a callused hand on the side of the young woman's face while using his other to grip a cold hand. "Time to come back, Angel," he whispered, closing his eyes to concentrate on fully using a link that he hadn't had to use in years and fought to ignore both the pain and the images.

**Elsewhere in a hidden location:**

"Sir? Is this wise, Sir? What is the Archangel Michael doesn't approve of your method of gaining his vessel's cooperation?"

Looking over at the smaller suit wearing Angel, Zachariah felt a sneer coming on but decided he was having too good of a day to allow his mood to be ruined by this little flesh wearing Angel. "Tobias, unlike Lucifer at this stage of the game, Michael does not care how we go about getting him his proper vessel just so I get Dean Winchester to say that one magic word," he replied, noticing that the power in this current building was draining again and sighed. "I've told them about using too much electricity on him though."

Confident that his plans were working out well this time, Zachariah had made certain that he and his enforcers were well hidden in a location that could be shielded from both Castiel and his annoying nephews since he had his own plans for Dean's brother and the witch. First, he planned to make a final example to Dean Winchester on just who was in control.

"Dean, how are we feeling today?" he asked calmly while entering the smaller more dank room that smelled of burning flesh and blood. "I trust the boys are keeping you occupied?"

"Yeah…having loads…of fun."

Scowling at the smart-ass remarks he was still getting, Zachariah took his time in looking around the small torture chamber his experts had set up. Much like the one he knew Uriel had set up when they'd captured Alastair and forced Dean to torture him. The cross-like steel rack kept the young hunter chained still so no matter what the enforcer's did he couldn't move the tiniest bit to try to relieve the agony induced on his already pain wrecked body.

"You know you can stop this pain by just saying one little word," Zachariah remarked, picking up a small torch like object to examine it closer before pushing the button to ignite the flame. "It's been a little over a day, Dean and I can stop healing what little of these wounds that I have been," he warned. "Oh, I know you've been on a similar rack before and perhaps you believe that my associates can't do the same as what was done to you in Hell but you should know that Angels learned the fine art of torture even better than those demons who taught you because we know more about finesse."

Lifting the hissing torch, the bald paunchy Angel held it to the side of Dean's face and was pleased by the brief look of fear he noticed and with the way his captive tried to jerk his head away only to have the strap across his forehead force it still. "Care to tell me that word, Dean?"

After waking up with agony searing across his body and taking a short while to remember that he wasn't back in Hell, Dean quickly came to recall what had happened to him and what must be happening. He could remember being at Bobby's, he remembered waking up to find that his brother had taken his car to go help Morgan and…Dean remembered his last phone conversation before his life went to Hell…again.

"Got…forty years?" he managed to spit out before a black suited enforcer slammed a hard fist into his mouth and he tasted blood. "Winchesters don't…break easily, douchebag."

Considering the torch briefly, Zachariah instead nodded to another of his men who used a serrated knife to slash it across Dean's bare chest and smiled at the ragged scream that the young man struggled to bury. "You mean most Winchesters don't break easily, don't you?" he countered with a sneer. "While it might have taken a near horde to break you free of that Pit I do have my ways to know what goes on and I know that you didn't make your beloved Father proud, Dean. John never broke no matter the pain or horrors that Alistair put him through but you?" he scoffed while grabbing a handful of hair to jerk on. "You broke in thirty years and you were begging to be let off…does Sam know why you broke? Or did you tell him the final straw that caused you to…"

"Shut…up," Dean gritted, pain forgotten even though his inner self knew he was in for much for brutal treatment but he wasn't going to allow the Angel to bring that subject up and he wasn't going to have him mention Sam…not after what Zachariah did to his brother more than once. "You won't…hurt…him…"

"Or I won't have to hurt Sam, Dean," Zachariah replied easily, lifting another tool up to examine it before putting it aside for a long thin needle. "I brought your future self back to this time just for that purpose. Well, that and to take care of another problem I have…that little witch you have on your side is almost as annoying to me as you and your brother are."

His fear for Sam was one thing but after remembering how frightened and in pain Morgan sounded on the phone and knowing what the Angel could do or had planned if he set his future self loose then Dean's fear level for his friend tripled. "He won't hurt her," he gritted out, fighting the agony that hit as a sharp blade cut up his side only to be healed immediately. "You couldn't make…any version…of me touch her. He just…"

"If he wants to continue to live back in his time and he doesn't want me to resurrect his precious wife just so I can kill her in front of him this time then he will kill her," Zachariah growled, chuckling at the confusion he saw in the boy. "You see, the future I sent you to isn't quite a full blown possibility to happen in this one since that version of you had several tiny differences in his life that you didn't. The big things were constant like going to Hell for Sam, the way your Father died and that crap but he had some differences as well and I learned from those differences the mistakes to erase from you."

Handing the needle to another henchman, the Angel returned to the torch to reignite it with a hiss before moving it over the hand shaped burn Dean still had on his shoulder, smiling with almost glee at the scream as the smell rose in the small room.

"You see, that Dean didn't let Daddy run his life. He went after the girl he loved and he married her long before he went to Hell and while Sam's life did parallel pretty close having a sister-in-law in his life with the powers she did kept him from falling too far…until 'Dean' returned from Hell a broken mess. Little Morgan had to devote most of her time and power keeping him from either turning into a drunk or killing himself," the bald Angel explained in between stints with the torch and knife while a smaller enforcer set the needle into an IV drip. "Your brief time with him, you thought that he'd turned so cold, hard, and bitter because of Sam but there was so much more to it…more than even your whore & little Sam know about now. He believed, up until recently, that it was Lucifer in Sam that killed his wife and destroyed his little family, his reason for sanity but in truth the girl had almost succeeded in pushing Lucifer out until I killed her."

"You…" struggling to make sense of this, Dean's pain filled mind struggled to make sense of what the Angel was doing. "Why…she's got nothing to do with…ARGGHH!"

Moving the torch over to touch it to his bare chest, Zachariah clucked his tongue in disgust. "You don't understand like he never did. That girl is an enigma. The wild card in this whole deck that could crumble what we're trying to build here," he grumbled, stepping in front of the rack so he could force the helpless hunter to look at him. "The only real difference in this time's witch and the one I dealt with in the future, possible world I sent you to was that yours isn't quite as powerful yet and she hasn't had the time to breed a new generation of Winchesters. That's what I plan on stopping, boy. You're going to say yes to Michael and Lucifer will either claim his vessel before the future you kills Sam or he'll find another one but that girl will be dead very shortly and I could make you bring her right to us."

"Go…to…hell," Dean managed to spit, fighting the scream that wanted to come when an enforcer took the torch and held it to his back. "I ain't helping you hurt what's…mine and Morg ain't…stupid," he gasped out. "She won't come…she can't find me…"

"Because you're blocking the link you share?" the Angel nodded, seeing the way Dean frowned a little. "I know you're blocking the link, Dean but I also know she'll try to find you so we're going to help that along."

Motioning to the smaller enforcer, Zachariah stepped to one side as the IV was inserted roughly into one of Dean's outstretched chained down arms and the needle inserted to allow the liquid to begin to flow. "When I had your future self in West Virginia seeing what I did to Sam, I switched out the drug he had with something older, something I had thought would kill her right off if the fool would've used both needles. This drug isn't as old but it will leave you with some…interesting side effects and it'll also help you decide to give me that answer I want."

Mild panic flared now. Dean knew he could fight the physical and mental crap that the bald sadistic Angel put him through but he wasn't as confident about fighting the effects of whatever drugs they used. Eyes watching the liquid slide through the IV to his arm, he strained briefly on instinct to try to free his arm but the chain held tight.

"I can stop this easily enough, Dean," Zachariah told him breezily, tapping the tip of a scalpel on his captive's thigh. "Just say yes and all this will stop and maybe I'll make it so you won't have to watch your little brother die at Michael's hands or…well, I really do want you to watch as your girlfriend dies by either the future you or Michael since we both know she'll fight for you."

"Touch Morgan again…or my brother…and if it's the last thing I do…" the liquid had finally reached the vein and Dean immediately felt the strong burning tearing through them. Dean fought the urge to show either pain or panic to his captors but it got harder when his vision began to swim and his thoughts got harder to keep focused. "She'll protect…Sam, you fat…" his words died off as whatever drug he'd been injected with began turning his veins into fire and his eyes swam with images he knew couldn't be real.

Blinking his eyes, Dean struggled to keep his thoughts calm. He knew the images, the people he was seeing were the effects of the drug burning his veins but seeing and hearing his father beret him over his failings, how he'd disappointed him and let him down in so many ways weakened his ability to fight both the drugs and the more harsher images.

"Have you had the time to chat with your little friend about the things she's still keeping from you, Dean?" Zachariah asked, knowing the drug was taking full effect by the way Dean's fists were clenching and the words he was now shouting between screams as the enforcers continued to work. "The things she did in secret to protect Sam and you or that she knew what Sam was doing those long bitter months you were in Hell and yet she didn't stop that. You gave your heart to something your own Father detested and yet she'd betray you both in a second to…"

"Shut your…damn mouth," Dean forced the words out, mind fighting for control because he knew if he lost that, if he lost what control he still had over his mind then Zachariah would have easy access to things he didn't want anyone to know, including his brother and friend. "I know…what you're doing, bastard. You won't…turn me on her. I…"

Sneering, the Angel opened Dean's wallet to remove the one other photograph that he had of Morgan that neither she nor Sam knew he had. A more recent image taken at a time when she hadn't known he'd been around. "You have all these feelings but yet you can't stand to say the actual words to anyone and they say Sam is the dysfunctional one in your family," he chided, holding the photo up to where Dean's glassy eyes could possibly see it. "She really is very lovely girl…except for her powers, her attitude, and her penchant for getting involved in things that doesn't concern her. Of course, I believed she served a much better purpose when I had her in that hovel of a town last month, wouldn't you say Dean?"

Trying to close his eyes against the vision that was currently assailing his eyes, Dean's temper sparked as Zachariah chose to bring up on the one topic he shouldn't. The young hunter still detested what he suspected had gone on in West Virginia but had chosen not to ask his friend about it given what else they had coped with.

"Go…oh wait…I forgot your kind ain't set-up for that," Dean thought the burning in his veins was bad but he screamed when the Angel's hand forced itself up against his ribcage to leave a burned welt. "Kill me cause I'm not saying yes and I won't help you hurt Sam or Morgan. Leave 'em alone or…"

Feeling like screaming again as Zachariah tore the photo up, Dean felt the drug hitting again but this time he fought the image because he refused to see… "Sammy, no," he whispered tightly, trying to close his eyes but the drug and the fingers of an enforcer kept his eyelids open to watch what he saw as his brother lift the torch to use it against tender skin.

"I won't kill you but before I'm done you'll wish you were dead, boy," Zachariah snarled, beginning to tire of this mortal. "You see, unlike Lucifer it's really very funny but Michael isn't as particular about your physical and mental condition. Nor does he care if you're a drooling vegetable when he takes your meatsuit so long as you can speak one damn word we'll accept it. It's not like Lucifer or my nephews will sue us for break of contract…the world will be in flames and everyone you love dead so who cares?"

Feeling the small room change slightly, the Angel smiled a little. He'd been expecting someone to try to get past the shields he'd set up to learn their location and he wasn't disappointed. He'd known the girl's link with Dean would be dimmed due to the future moron's involvement so it would take a more direct way for her to lock onto him and nodding to his enforcer to increase the pain the boy was in would serve to shock her already weakened condition even more.

"Your little friend's going to try to help you, Dean," he chuckled, gripping a handful of hair to jerk his head back against the hard cold rack. "Scream for her so we can get this show on the road. I want to hand you to Michael, send your future asshole self back right where I found him…rotting in a grave, and burn the only other two people who can stop you from saying yes to me."

Whether the drug in the IV had slowed or started to run out or if it was the feeling of soft gentle but terrified thoughts he began to feel, Dean recognized the feelings now intruding into his horrid visions of his brother and father taking turns on torturing him. His panic for her outweighed that pain and he fought back to not only try to fight the vision but also to block Morgan when he realized what she must have done.

"No," Dean knew he wouldn't be able to fight the drug or the pain for long so he quickly focused what concentration he'd gained back on Morgan and felt the link, dimmed as if something or someone else was trying to control it and that also scared him. 'Morg,'

'Dean?' he very faintly could hear her over the muted link but strained to hide the pain he knew she'd felt but what concerned him more was keeping the young British woman from coming too far. He knew Zachariah had something planned and refused to be used against either his friend or Sam. 'We'll find you and then that bloody Angel pal you have can…'

'I'm sorry, Angel,' he managed to think back to her, feeling her fear for him and so much more than he'd been willing to allow himself to accept before. 'Take care of Sammy for…me,' he felt the pain blurring his conscious thoughts again but fought it as he worked on doing the one thing that he knew that blowhard Angel dick wouldn't be expecting but before he did Dean accepted the one last thing he needed to do. 'Tell Sam to fight this…be with him like I couldn't be and…I love you both…I've loved you, Morg. Now stay away from me and this.'

Feeling her thoughts freeze at his words, Dean took the only opportunity he'd have to force the link with all his strength and felt the presence of his friend disappear with a cry that he knew was part fear for him and part pain. Even as he could feel his veins burn again he knew he'd done the only thing he could to save his friend and his brother. Now he just had to find a way to die before Zachariah got what he wanted because he'd be dead before he was used as an Angel condom for some fool looking to hurt what was his.

"What did you do?" Zachariah felt the change the moment it happened and grabbed Dean's face in one hand to jerk it up despite the strap holding it in place. "What did you do, boy?" he demanded harshly, not liking the weak but still present smirk he watched come over Dean's face.

"You can burn me, drug me…torture me, asshole but I will…be damned if you will ever touch…' it took several grunts and gasps as he was cut, punched and burned but finally Dean was able to spit out what he needed to. "…my girl or my brother and use…me to do it."

Rage was plain on the head Angel's face as several enforcers even back away in fear of what their boss would do now. "I hadn't planned on destroying your mind, Dean or your body fully before you just pissed me off!" he snarled, grabbing for another needle to insert into the IV line while also picking up a jagged edge razor. "Now? Now I'll make you scream until your throat goes out and Michael can pick up the damn pieces but I will make you pay for that and you will bring me what I want!"

Feeling his consciousness going, Dean had no doubts that he'd probably never see his brother of friend again and while he feared the coming hours, he knew he'd done what he had to protect them. 'Be safe,' he thought silently as the screams built again and he struggled not to give in but slowly exhaustion, pain, and fear finally won out and he felt himself being dragged down.

**Back at Bobby Singer's House:**

"You are so going to fry the moment I get the word that we don't need you anymore!" Jack MacShayne's voice was pure cold hate and only the fact that Castiel and Bobby were between him and the Dean from 2014 did he not fry the guy now.

"I needed Sam out so he didn't see or hear things he shouldn't," 'Dean' shot back, grunting as he was suddenly slammed across the room into one of the bookcases and a strong arm went across his windpipe. "…Sam…"

Having come to with a headache and every nerve tingling told Sam Winchester what must have happened to him and he reacted in a rare way for him. He moved like lightning to jerk the older version of his brother up and slam him across the room. "One damn reason why I shouldn't kill you or let that mystic kill you," he snarled, a cold feeling in his heart saying that something bad had happened. "You were supposed to bring Morgan back to her body NOT knock me out you…"

"Dean!" the sudden scream took all three men, Jack and Castiel off guard as Morgan suddenly sat up on the sofa seat while trying to reach or grab for something only she could see. "No, don't do this! We…"

"Whoa, kid," Bobby was closer and quickly caught her before she fell off the seat but let go as soon as he felt her jerk at his touch even though she was still trying to grab onto something…or something. "MacShayne?"

A quick look told the mystic to back off and not try to touch his boss right then even as Sam gave the older 'Dean' a final shove before he went to his friend. "Sam, be…" he started to say but only sighed at the dark look he got. "I hate Winchesters. Always have, always will."

"Morgan?" Sam caught her hands in his to hold onto them and felt how badly she was shaking, looking up in warning as the other man came closer he tried to calm his friend down. "What happened? What's wrong?" he asked carefully, trying to keep her still so she didn't make herself worse and possibly bring on another damn seizure but didn't like the way she kept whispering his brother's name. "Morgan, what's wrong? Did you find Dean or…"

Hardly coherent and barely conscious, Morgan was still fighting to reestablish a link that she hadn't known she'd miss so acutely since it reformed until finally she fell forward only to be caught against Sam's chest. "I had him," she whispered, unknown tears falling down her pale cheeks. "I had him, Sammy but…"

Hearing the way she said his name and knowing that something bad must have happened to send her this far back into shock, Sam didn't reply for a long while. Instead, he sat fully on the sofa seat with her next to him and accepted the cool cloth from Castiel who seemed to watching both his nephew and the older 'Dean' closely.

"But what, Morg?" Sam asked after a long moment when he was halfway certain she's calmed down some but caught the way his friend was now fully clutching the necklace she wore but it was when she reached for his brother's leather jacket to run her fingers over it that he understood that whatever the hell had happened must have been bad. "What happened when you found Dean?"

"He pushed me out," she whispered, confusion obvious but so was the pain in her voice as she struggled to understand why her friend would have done this. "I had his thoughts and he said to take care of you and…" Morgan slowed as if not wanting to say too much when she suddenly pulled away from Sam as if not wanting to let him see how this weak only to have him hold on. "Sam, he said to leave it alone. To let him go and I can't feel him now. I can't feel anything from Dean now and…"

"Crap on a shingle," Bobby groaned, knowing this was bad even as Sam worked on soothing his friend and Jack scowled. "So does anyone have any other brilliant plans to find Dean before he becomes a meatsuit for a damn Archangel?"

Accepting that losing the link she'd shared with Dean had pretty much knocked Morgan back into shock for the time being, Sam could only shrug when he noticed the future version of his brother had stopped by the edge of the seat to gaze at them as if making up his mind.

"Yeah, now we go do what we should've done in the first damn place," he spoke finally, moving a hand to stroke it over Morgan's hair but stopped the second Sam's eyes lifted to his in a silent challenge then reaching into the dark green duffel bag he'd brought with him to pull something out.

"What's that supposed to be, hotshot?" Bobby demanded, not willing to trust this stranger as far as he could see him and especially not with Sam and Morgan.

Deciding since his cover was blown and he'd need all the advantages he had to get through this mess in one piece, 'Dean' went ahead and put on the thigh holster he'd taken to wearing in order to have another pistol close at hand. Looking at Bobby silently while cinching the final strap, he just offered a dry smirk. "We go see the one guy in this time who can tell us what we need."

Hearing Jack groan and Castiel's brow furrow, Sam frowned a little while easing his now silent friend down next to him on the seat. "Who?"

"Chuck, Sammy. We need to go see Chuck."

**TBC**

**A/N: **I never thought I'd write a story that would need Chuck but he's coming. Will he be able to tell our little band the location of Dean before Zachariah does too much damage? Will Sam and the 'Dean' from 2014 be able to coexist in order to save the current Dean from becoming a vessel? That and more in CH 7 (which I swear I'll try to update faster).


	7. Chapter 7

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Seven**

"No! No way in hell!" Jack MacShayne's tone was firm as those words sunk in and his eyes went dark. "I'm willing to deal with hunters, humans, Angels, depowered Angels in trench coats, overzealous demons, even my family but I will not deal with Prophets," he snapped, shaking his head. "I've hated Prophets for millennia and this one has got to take the damn cake out of all of them and I haven't even met this one in person!"

"Unless you know where Zach's hold up then going to see the Chuck in this time is the only other choice we got," 'Dean' from 2014 remarked, sliding his eyes toward the sofa seat. "Unless you want to tell them to write Dean off."

Feeling like snarling and barely resisting the urge to fry the older man from the future, Jack scowled as he neared the seat where Sam Winchester was still trying to calm his friend down. "Boss…"

"I don't understand why he cut the link off," Morgan whispered, still feeling all the effects of the recent days events and losing the link she'd shared with the elder Winchester brother had sent her further into shock that even Bobby was getting worried. "He knew I could help him and find him to stop this so why…"

Since his brother was usually the one to handle their friend when she allowed either of them to see her emotions Sam was at a loss in how to help her until he felt a hand on his shoulder, fighting the urge to jerk it off. "Morg, Dean's scared so I'm sure he was only…"

"He loves you both and he doesn't want either of you near Zachariah and the goons from the Garrison so Dean reacted in the only way he could to keep you safe, Angel," 'Dean' told her quietly, knowing that his younger self wouldn't want that announced. He also knew that it would hurt her more if she kept thinking the worst since he was well aware of how much she could think of this action. "But we will find Dean."

"He was hurting him!" Morgan could still see the blurry images from her mind but more to 'Dean' and Sam's concern was that both men knew she was also probably also still feeling the aftereffects of that connection. "They were torturing him like he was hurt in Hell and…"

Something crashed from near Bobby's desk even while Sam was frowning as that comment sunk in. "You…felt…Morgan, did you…feel Dean while he was…" he found that even saying the words hurt but less than knowing his friend might have been feeling Dean's pain first hand.

"You said you were having dreams, not the kind of dreams where you actually experienced it and all," Jack complained, feeling like banging his head in against a wall for this and only Castiel's warning look kept him from doing exactly that.

"I saw more than felt those but occasionally I'd feel him," she murmured, catching Sam's expression of shock and horror but decided it best if she didn't reveal what else she could on that subject. "That doesn't matter…what matters is that…"

"What matters is that for four damn months who were having me and Kel look for ways into Hell that haven't existed in centuries while also chasing after this one who was damn bound and determined to either kill himself or drive me to drink when he started letting the bitch from Hell give him Demon blood!" Jack's temper was thin since the Apocalypse started and this revelation didn't make him any happier. "Now you tell me that you actually could see or feel what Winchester went through down there? That explains why on the third month you freaked…Boss!"

The light on the wall exploded into shards a second before Morgan's tired eyes changed colors. "Shut up," the warning was clear and only a hand from Sam kept the young woman from moving on the mystic. "You find Dean or those damn Angels or I don't need you since you sure as bloody hell didn't do anything to keep him from being grabbed or keep this future asshole from showing up to kill Sam!"

"Jack…" Castiel warned, recognizing the temper and power his nephew held and knew he was closing in on being angry.

"If these two morons hadn't started the damn Apocalypse or you would've stayed out of it my life would be a lot less stressful!" Jack snapped back, taking a step forward when he felt a pain shoot up his hand but that was when he noticed future 'Dean' was watching him intently and guessed where the pain was coming from. "You don't want to do that."

'Dean' just moved his head easily but moved as if to walk toward the desk but stopped so that he put himself between the mystic and the two young people he'd pretty much taken temporary responsibility over for the time being.

"Sam, take Morgan upstairs so she can try to sleep the edge off while you get cleaned up," 'Dean' called over his shoulder, praying this wasn't the time the young hunter decided to be stubborn about listening. He knew Sam would only take so much for so long of being bossed around by someone not on that rare list that Sam seemed to have of people he'd listen to.

"I don't need to sleep anything off," Morgan argued, finally able to sit up fully only to fall back when she went to stand. "Dean needs…"

"Dean needs both you and Sam healthy and able to take care of yourselves," the older 'Dean' cut her off in a tone that he knew would normally have gotten him slapped by his own wife. When the younger woman's eyes dropped only then did he know how bad she was still feeling and that worried him on more than one level. "You're system is still screwed up from that drug & that stunt you pulled to try to find Dean didn't help it any. So you, my Angel, are going upstairs to sleep in a bed while your bodyguard takes a shower before he sleeps considering he's been through…you get the idea," 'Dean' decided using the word Hell probably wouldn't be wise.

Sam wondered just how much Morgan was hiding from him in the way of injuries when he considered how much like his brother she really could be at times. "Morg, I have a couple cuts from that witch that need checked and a wound from that body snatch thing that Dean was keeping an eye on," he began slowly, being careful to hide his grin when he instantly had her attention at the mention of his injuries. "Y'think, while I take a shower you can go through the medical kit to see if there's everything in it that you'll need to dress 'em?"

"I thought one of these bloody morons would've healed you while I was…out the last time, Sammy," Morgan shot both the Angel and mystic a dark look but didn't seem aware when Sam's hand supported her arm while nudging her out of the library. "What use are you guys if you can't heal a few cuts or…"

As Jack began to snarl and Castiel slapped the mystic, Sam paused to fully meet the smirk of the 'older' and much harder version of his brother with a firm gaze before letting it move to where Morgan was still bitching at her mystic.

"You keep your end of this deal up, help me get my brother back and I'll keep up mine," he spoke quietly as he really didn't want Bobby to know about this arrangement but this time his hazel eyes turned hard and he poked a finger into the other man's chest. "But, I'll listen to you for her sake and I'll get her to sleep since I know she's scared for Dean and still sick but," he paused to take a deep breath since he knew how dangerous this man could be from the nightmares he had yet couldn't explain. "My brother, and only my brother, only Dean, can call her what you just did so…don't call her that again."

Fighting to keep the smirk in place and not show any other emotion, 'Dean' considered what the boy was saying. "I've called her Angel since that witch's house in…"

"You do not call her 'my Angel' again," Sam stressed, lowering his voice as he stepped closer. "That is totally different and something only Dean can say to her. You may be like my brother and you may share memories with him and yeah, you and your version of Morg may also share things but for me that phrase was something only for her and my brother. Can we agree on this?"

The typical smart remark that at one time he would've made and he was certain his current self still would make was close to the tip of his tongue until 'Dean' noticed the depth of emotion shining in Sam's eyes. He understood that it wasn't just a way to protect his friend but also that single phrase also was important to Sam too since it reminded him of a time in his life when he felt safe.

"Yeah, Sammy, we can agree on that," he nodded, waiting until Sam had turned to finish urging Morgan out of the library and upstairs to let the smirk fall and the closest thing to a dark emotion surface since being pulled back to this time.

Determined to cover things he'd never want anyone to see, 'Dean' turned to catch Bobby Singer watching him intently and coughed while motioning to the collection of books. "Zach's gonna have some kind of hefty spell up to shield him, his goons, this place and probably Dean from anyone with powers including your Cas here and the mystics so we need a spell…preferably something in Enochian to break the barriers because Morgan will use what she has to break that shield and that's not something we want."

"No, because then I'll have a pissed off mercenary leader after me," Jack muttered, slumping in a chair by the desk just as a book was tossed his way. "You know what Zach was doing to Winchester."

Knowing that it wasn't a question, 'Dean' turned to run a finger over the leather jacket that was laying on the sofa seat and was surprised at how much of his own life shot to the surface in his mind. "I share that link with her, MacShayne so I saw what Morgan did," he confirmed, adding bitterly. "I saw what that fat bloated bastard is doing to that kid and that we need to find him because Michael isn't as choosy in the condition of his vessel as Lucifer. The drug he's using will burn Dean out and destroy his mind while the memories it brings back will kill his soul."

"I thought a vessel could only be taken if the person gives conscious consent," Bobby growled, rolling around the desk with a heavy book to smack the mystic upside the head. "Ain't that what Sam said you rattled off in West Virginia when Lucifer was after him?"

"Yeah, I did and it is…normally," Jack grumbled, wincing for the slap he was expecting to come while glaring at Castiel. "How far would Zach go to get Dean to say yes?"

Considering how much his former superior detested Dean Winchester, Castiel knew there wasn't anything Zachariah wouldn't do to get that final answer. "To please Michael, to get more ahead in the garrison, Zachariah will do anything to get Dean to say 'yes' but…" he paused as if considering something he wanted to say.

"He'll make Dean go through agony three times worse than what he did in Hell just to hurt him," 'Dean' remarked quietly but with confidence as if he had no doubts on this. "He'll also use those he loves against him just to hurt him and that's why Dean blocked that link he shares with Morgan. He doesn't want her hurt since he knows what Zach's already done to both her and Sammy."

"Do I want to know how the hell you know all this?" Bobby demanded even though he was certain he didn't want to know but something about this gruff version of the boy he'd helped raise told him to tread lightly on this one. "Boy, you show up and all hell breaks loose in these kids lives. Now I'm guessin' you have a head full of crap that can help or hurt so just give."

Twisting the wedding ring he wore, 'Dean' considered how to answer this when he finally sighed. "After I came back from Hell, after Zach realized that I wasn't going to give in to his demands he tried this same crap on me," he admitted warily, not wanting to bring back those memories unless he had to. "Rack, torture worse than anything Hell could create but it was the drugs he used that nearly did me in. He didn't use half of the stuff I caught him using this time but it was bad enough that I was in bad shape except he didn't count on one thing."

"Morgan," Bobby could tell this was going to increase the danger ten fold to his friend but wondered just what else this 'Dean' version was hiding from them when he finally noticed the ring and felt his stomach drop. "Shit! Boy, you were married to…"

"Morg and Sam saved me from Zachariah's torture room but it took another two months to bring me down from all the crap he filled my veins with," 'Dean' told him grimly, wanting to avoid any questions but knowing the risks their Dean was in. "Zach hadn't really counted on her powers or that she could kill Angels. I didn't take into account how much he'd hate her for that afterwards but I do know that he's learned from that and will hit Dean with stronger drugs and worse torture and all Michael will care about is getting that one damn word," he added, pushing up with a sigh as recent events began to catch up to him. "So we need to go see Chuck and have that spell so how about you guys work on finding one."

Throwing a book at the clearly unhappy Angel, Jack stood and thought about blocking the door until he recalled that this man clearly knew tricks on how to hurt him. "Where you going?" he wanted to know, eyeing the ceiling. "If you go near either Sam or the boss I'll fry you on principal's sake which I still might do before this is over."

Understanding the unspoken warning, 'Dean' let it go while he shrugged. "I'm just going to ask…Bobby if it's alright to go up, take a shower and change," he looked for the only bag he had and was glad to see that when Jack beamed everything from Massachusetts he also grabbed it from where he'd stashed it. "I've been tossed around by her, a crazy witch, dug a grave, salted and burned bones and…I'd forgotten what a day in the life of a hunter was like."

"Use the room at the end of the hall. It has a working bathroom and a bed you can use while these chuckleheads help me find something to counter a spell," Bobby replied, guessing that he'd know his way around the house. "My house was still the same where you come from…right?"

A brief pause before finally a mumbled 'yeah' was heard as 'Dean' walked out to head upstairs while Castiel's eyes followed him. "He's hiding things," he mused, hearing a snort. "Jack, you can see…"

"Sure, and I know future boy is keeping stuff from us but until I decide how useful he's gonna be to us in getting Winchester back, we don't push it," Jack responded, looking at the books in the room and quickly determining none of them would hold what he wanted. "Keep an eye on the kids, watch that guy and I'll be back."

"What?" Bobby liked to know how he was supposed to do that when he couldn't get to his second floor now. "Where the hell you goin'?"

Shooting the Angel a warning look to keep things under control and to make sure the future 'Dean' steered clear of Sam, Jack considered this reply before he sighed. "To see one of my parents about a book," he shrugged, waving a hand to vanish from the room even before Castiel choked at that suggestion.

"That ain't good is it?" the older hunter asked rolling back to where he kept the older books.

Feeling like scrubbing a hand over his face much as he'd seen his human friends do the Angel debated on telling Bobby exactly what he could on that subject but in the end, he decided not to give the man any more stress. "Jack'll find what he needs but in the meantime we can hunt some other spells or signals that will help get us close to them," he spoke while wondering just how this turn of events would affect his friends and if he shouldn't be keeping closer tabs on what was happening upstairs.

**Upstairs of Bobby Singer's Home**:

Having taken the time to look in on Sam and Morgan, the 'Dean' from 2014 had been surprised by the raw emotion that surfaced as he watched Morgan look over, clean and dress the minor wounds Sam still showed and memories nearly rushed him of other times, other places that he'd buried years ago before he'd lost his own versions.

Silently grateful that Bobby would trust him enough to allow him upstairs with Sam and Morgan after knowing that something had happened between them before, 'Dean' was too tired and sore by this point to second guess things. Dumping his worn duffel onto the bed, he snagged the first clean or reasonably clean jeans that he touched before stepping into the bathroom.

Bobby's question of if this house was the same here as it was in his time rocked him more than he liked to admit. If he had to hazard a guess, he'd say that most of his memories about Bobby Singer and this house were probably one of the few things he and this time's Dean shared…up until a point. Up until things went bad and the world literally blew up in his face.

Stripping off the dirty clothes, he made a mental note to pick them up to shove them back in his bag before stepping into a shower that actually had hot water with pressure. Almost having forgot what those two things felt like considering in his time now even having warm water was a luxury for his little band of survivors, 'Dean' leaned into the spray. For several minutes, he tried to clear his head and wash away what felt like months of filth mentally before attempting to wash the dirt and weariness from his body.

For him, it hadn't been that long since he'd seen Dean in his time of 2014 and he guessed it really hadn't been if he read the calendar right. The time difference in how long it had been since he'd actually seen his brother not with Lucifer inside him was a different story and…

Hard green eyes slowly softened as he thought of his version of Morgan. The link he could feel in this timeline gave him a clue as to what was the same and what was different. Some of those differences broke his heart and made him make a mental note to slap his younger self upside his damn head but then there were other things that he hoped never happened to them, the bad things and finally the loss of everything.

Not bothering to ask why Bobby would have scented body wash in this shower, he reached for the bar of soap to lather before beginning to scrub while allowing his thoughts to flow.

"_Sonuvabitch_," he whispered, trying not to think of his brother and how much losing Sam had hurt. 'Dean' never admitted aloud that he knew he'd lost his brother long before the Devil took him in Detroit. He lost him when he let him go out on his own and refused the practically begging phone call to come back. Of course, if he was honest, he could also admit that he'd nearly lost his wife in that same instant too since Morgan had been beyond furious at his choices.

Only a strong bond of love and Morgan's loyalty kept her by him after that and 'Dean' knew it. He also knew she had been trying to get Sam to come back or at least attempt to make contact again when it all went wrong. It was four years of separation, four years of being apart to hunt on different sides of the country until finally something happened to make Sam give in to Lucifer, to make him accept the offer they had both been avoiding. To this day 'Dean' still didn't know what had caused his little brother to say that one damn single word but he knew he wouldn't forget the day it happened or how much he lost soon afterwards.

Turning the hot water off after rinsing the soap off a body he still kept lean and toned, he quickly toweled off while reaching for his jeans and caught his reflection in the steamy mirror. Remembering the photo that he'd seen in Bobby's library and the mud caked one that Jack had found in the yard it was so hard to recall when he'd been that young or even that relaxed. 'Dean' had a hard time even remembering when he had been as relaxed and cocky as the younger man in this time was. When he had been as happy or relaxed as he had seen Dean be not that very long ago when he and Morgan parted company from the front porch.

"Couldn't even give Morgan that happiness when…" he felt his throat close up before the name could come out his lips and a piece of him felt like dying every time that happened since he knew how disappointed in both him and his actions his wife would be in him now. Especially if he did take Sam's life in this time because he knew how much Morgan had fought, up until the end, for his brother.

Swearing that he'd left his shirt and over-shirt in the bedroom, 'Dean' shoved down the memories that made him hate to re-enter that room. He knew the older man hadn't known, couldn't have known, why allowing him to use that room would be a much harsher punishment than just allowing a mystic to kill him.

Stepping into the bedroom to finish dressing, he barely caught the shirt as it was tossed at him before a weak wave of energy shoved him back against the wall. "I don't want Sam to know."

"Guess thinking that you'd actually listen to advice for once was kind of stupid," 'Dean' muttered, jerking the shirt off his head to glare at Morgan before noticing that she was sitting on the bed next to all of the crap he'd dumped from his duffel. "You always were a nosy little brat too. You go through your boy's stuff?"

"No, because now he'd know not to keep anything good inside the duffel," Morgan replied, feeling like crap and knowing if Sam woke up before she was back he'd raise off kinds of hell but needing this handled. "I don't want Sammy knowing and I know you know."

Pretending not to have a clue, he reached into the pile of stuff for his over shirt but intentionally let his fingers brush over the hand she had sorting through his belongings, smirking when she jerked it back. "What is it exactly that we don't want little Sammy knowing, precious?" he asked, letting his voice take the cold sneer that he'd grown accustomed to using on his people. "There's a lot of crap that I probably could tell that kid that neither you nor his big brother have so what is it that you're so sure that I know that…"

"Why Dean gave in!" Morgan snapped, surging to her feet to use both hands to shove him back but still saw the dark satisfaction in his eyes along with mild surprise. "The link you're hacking into works both ways, mate and I know that if you and Dean share 100% memory on anything it's the four months spent in Hell and I don't want Sammy to ever find out the real reason Dean finally gave in to Alistair."

Concentrating on tucking his T-shirt into the jeans he'd yet to button, 'Dean' managed to keep his face straight and not let on how surprised he was that she even was aware of this and he wondered if Dean even knew how much this girl actually did know.

"Huh, I'm taking it that Dean has no clue just how much you actually know about his life…before, during, and after the forty years in Hell?" 'Dean' decided, buttoning the jeans and slipping into the over shirt before reaching for the thigh holster he'd taken to wearing in order to give himself more weapons. "Does he?"

Letting her tired eyes watch as this older version of her friend finished dressing, Morgan's gaze finally noticed the types of weapons he had laying on the bed even as she tried to avoid gazing as he strapped on the leather holster to his thigh and reached for the pistol that he normally carried in it. "Umm, I guess all the weapons must be needed in your time."

"That or become zombie food for the Croats," he acknowledged, feeling her gaze and considered making a smart remark until he caught the way Morgan's fingers were playing with the necklace she wore. "He'll be alright."

Ignoring the images that the idea of that holster gave her, Morgan glanced down to notice a small snapshot of a chubby baby with soft downy-like fair hair with blue-green eyes curled in the arms of…

"He…looked like his mother," 'Dean' murmured upon seeing which photo he still carried had caught her attention and, not for the first time, wishing he'd burned this one. "She…she was a lot like you in some ways but others…" he laughed as sat down beside her to hand her a photo much like the one she and Dean shared copies. "Morg had issues with things that happened to her and I wasn't always the biggest help. She and Dad never did make up and I think it hurt her to think that maybe Sam or I harbored resentment that even as he died he hated the choice I made when I married her."

Slightly surprised that he was this willing to open up about a life that he'd clearly tried to bury, Morgan considered letting it drop but something bothered her. "What…happened?" she could feel the emotions running rampant inside him, feelings that he'd refused to face for years. "I'm working bloody hard to make sure your time doesn't happen but there had to be something besides Sam saying yes and losing…her that turned you this cold…this hard."

"My whole damn life happened, Angel," the 'Dean' from the future snorted, making sure the pistol in the thigh holster was secure before slipping into the shoulder one but sighed when he felt her shift away. "Wait," his hand shot out to grasp her wrist but was careful this time to keep his grip light but still felt her hand trembling. "While a lot of my life matches Dean's, it wasn't a hundred percent identical and some of those differences probably also played a part in how I ended up."

Debating on hearing this or going back in case Sam woke up, Morgan bit her lip but had a sudden rush of dizziness make her choice for her when she sat back down to allow it to pass and keep a close eye on this stranger who a part of her prayed her friend never turned into.

"Basically, mine and Sam's lives up to meeting you were the same as here only my Dad was a lot meaner. I took a lot more hell trying to keep Sam safe from him," he began slowly, not sure why he decided to tell her this except 'Dean' admitted that it was always harder for him to refuse those eyes. "I also didn't buy into the load of crap Dad gave me about the reason you left like this kid did. I let it go…until Sam split for school, Dad left to hunt on his own since our methods weren't meshing and I went for what was mine," 'Dean' seemed to pause for a long while as he stared at a smaller single photo. "My Dad by then had pretty much announced to the hunter world what she was so it made protecting me and Sam that much harder since every hunter except for Bobby, Caleb, and Jim wanted Morg dead."

"Damn and I thought John and I had a bad relationship," Morgan muttered, noticing the photo he was fixated on was one of when he was younger, around twenty-one, and his version of herself. Even she noticed the wary shadows in that girl's eyes. "He must not have thought of that."

A dry chuckle surprised her as this older man looked over his shoulder at her with a smirk that appeared strained. "You might want to ask your Dean about that one," he told her, coughing to get back on track. "I told you she had some issues when we got back together. Well, those included nearly being held for a week by a couple hunters that listed to the gospel that was John Winchester."

'Dean' had slowly begun to repack his duffel in order to have something to do as he spoke of things that clearly still bothered him. "In this place Sam and Dean were apart for four years after Sam left for school and basically that was true for me and my brother as well except…Sam willingly came back to hunt one time. When I called him to ask for his help to find her because while he may have wanted away from Dad I knew he'd never refuse Morgan and he didn't."

Noticing that Morgan's face was pale again, he guessed she was fighting the dizziness that would've been a side effect of the drug he'd mistakenly used and so kept talking to keep her mind off that and her worry for the brothers even if he did gloss over the next part.

The future version of 'Dean' had no intention of telling an already upset and frightened girl who had lived through her own horrors what he and his brother had found that day in some mountain cabin in Tennessee when they and Caleb had tracked the two hunters down. He could still recall the rage he felt that two men he'd known, that he'd hunted with a few times could do what they had to a seventeen-year-old girl.

His version of Morgan had been like a broken doll both emotionally and physically when he'd cut her free and gave her to his startled brother to take out of the cabin before he unleashed all the fury, fear, and buried emotion on Roy and Walt while Caleb made certain he wasn't interrupted. Then he burned the cabin to remove all traces of what had happened. He also chose not to tell this young woman about the six weeks it took to even get the girl he loved to come out of the shell she'd built around herself.

"Sammy helped me get her back and then before I made him go back to school I had one of the last few conversations with Dad before he died," he remarked, running the smaller wedding band around in his hand. "We got married when she was eighteen and only Bobby threatening to blow him away if he tried to ruin it kept Dad from trying. It was the first time Morg and I met Jessica and Lord, I knew from the start that she just was not impressed with Sammy's choice but luckily getting married was an easy distraction."

"Yeah, I bet," Morgan murmured, knowing he'd skipped chunks but letting it go as certain images came to mind and she couldn't help the blush that came until a hand gently cupped her chin to lift it.

Smirking, 'Dean' shook his head. "I'll tell you something that I don't think even Sam honestly believed when I told him. I married Morg to give her some protection since even at that age I'd gotten a reputation so I was hoping being married to me would protect her from Dad's pals and it did to a degree," he admitted before running his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. "We were married for probably a year, year and a half before we actually made love even though we slept together. I knew how far to go, especially after that mess with those assholes and don't give me that look," he growled after seeing her small smile. "I had a little brother and a crotchety old hunter who would've skinned me if I'd even have thought about it."

"You used to be a lot like Dean can still be when he puts his mind to it," Morgan told him quietly, knowing how hard Dean works not to be too rough or go too far despite his usual behavior with women. "What changed it?"

Placing the wedding ring that had once belonged to his wife in small velvet pouch that also held the matching engagement ring, 'Dean' considered that question and came up with only one answer. "Sammy died," he responded, seeing her tense from the corner of his eye. "For me, I nearly lost both Sam and Morgan in Cold Oak because to this day I don't know who that sociopathic son of a bitch was aiming for but Sam's the one who took the knife in the back. We had found Sammy and Morg had gone ahead of me and Bobby to check on him and I'm sure you can guess her first immediate reaction."

"Hug first then check for injuries," she replied, guessing since this would have been her first thought and assumed she was right when he nodded.

"Sam, just glad to see us, reacted in typical Sammy manner when he hugged back but because of the height difference he always had a habit of picking her up and that's where it went wrong," 'Dean' could still see the night it happened. "Sam saw Jake with the knife and he turned to make sure Morgan was out of the way but didn't move in time to avoid the knife when it severed his spine and essentially killed him. Being in close physical contact at the time of such an act reacted with Morg's powers and knocked her into shock. It was so bad that I was afraid I was losing both my wife and my brother that night. All I knew was that my brother was dead, that I'd failed in the one damn job that I'd had and I needed to do something because I couldn't lose him so you know what happened."

Nodding slowly, Morgan considered it. "I could've healed Sam so why didn't…" she stopped when his gaze moved away. "You forgot she could or didn't you want her to?"

"I was scared that she wouldn't wake up again so I wasn't taking the chance and I knew that she could heal a wound but I didn't know if she could bring Sam back from the dead so I went to that Crossroad and made the deal that would send both me and your boy to Hell. It just wasn't all cut and dried for me," he admitted grimly. "I saved Sam because it was what I had to do without really considering the risks and I didn't know that Morgan was already trying to save him. When I got back to them, she was sobbing and Sam didn't know why except that he'd been hurt and we managed to keep it from him about my deal until the night we faced the Yellow-Eyed Demon."

"You blamed Sam for going to Hell," she realized that and couldn't help being surprised since she knew no matter how many problems Dean and Sam have had that Dean never once regretted saving his brother. "They would've tried to break the deal or…"

Looking down as she reached for his hand out of instincts that were hard to break, this 'Dean' took the time to meet her eyes and was quick to shield his thoughts before things he'd still rather not let anyone else know came through. "They tried and I know how many rules Morgan broke to try to get me out of it but in the end I was forced to be brave the final night I held my wife and then spent the morning comforting my kid brother who up until the moment those Hellhounds tore into me still believed I could be saved. After that is when it all went wrong because I spent thirty years fighting the torture until Alistair used the one thing against me that I couldn't resist…well, I had two things but for your boy…he used Sam but then you knew that and that's what you don't want Sammy-boy to know."

"Hell destroyed Dean in ways that he's still recovering from and if he knew that Sam ever learned that he was the reason that Dean gave in finally then it would finish destroying him," Morgan remarked, glancing again at the photo with the baby as she went to stand up to go. "What happened to the baby?"

Fighting the urge to jerk the photo from her and forget the day he came back to this house after going to Detroit to try to bring Sam back since that was the one thing Morgan wanted before the baby was born only to arrive too late and was forced to watch Lucifer take his brother's body. Then he had to explain to Morgan why he wasn't going to go after Sam to free him while he found himself holding his infant son who was a brutal reminder of the baby brother he'd once had.

"After…what happened to Morgan…after I buried her I…" he took the photo and slipped it into his duffel again. "I let Chuck and Becky take him because…I knew I couldn't be a Father when I couldn't hold that baby again since every time I tried I would see you…I mean her with him and…you better go check on Sam," 'Dean' coughed, turning away before she saw the break he was worried would be coming.

Hesitating as she touched the knob, Morgan glanced back. "You know I won't let you hurt Sam."

"Angel, I'd be disappointed if you did," he forced the chuckle out to cover the pain he was feeling and waited until he heard the door close to barely stop from slamming a fist into the wall. "Damn, I can't do this," he groaned, slumping down on the bed to think of all that he'd lost, what he could possibly be forced to take from others in this time and what his late wife would be thinking of him now.

Down the hall in the room that Bobby had always allowed the Winchesters to share, Morgan eased inside to see that Sam was still asleep only the way he was sleeping concerned her since she knew that Sam only slept on his stomach when drunk, sick, or worried.

Moving to lay Dean's leather jacket over him before deciding to go find Jack or Bobby to find out about this Chuck character when Sam's hand reached out to catch her wrist. "We will find Dean, right?"

The tone warned Morgan that Sam was tired and with all he's been through recently he was only half awake but the fear was genuine and broke her heart. She just wished that Dean was more open to accepting the emotions Sam and others often showed him. "Sure we will, Sammy. Then I'm going to smack him upside his bloody head for closing off that link so I can't find him and end this," she responded quietly, letting him hold the jacket while stretching out on Dean's bed with no intention of sleeping so she wasn't aware of falling asleep or the mystic in the door who aided in that decision.

"I thought you told me to never knock her out," Castiel spoke from the hall where he'd appeared after feeling the return of his nephew.

"Yeah, that rule doesn't apply to me. I can feel how close she is to crashing and burning tonight. And since that drug is still screwing up her system, I wanted her to sleep until the morning," Jack MacShayne gazed between the two beds before allowing his thoughts to search out the one wild card he had in the house and didn't find it comforting that he couldn't read this man well. "Here. Mom sends her regards so you find the spell and all the crap we'll need to make it work while I figure out how to survive dealing with a drunk, geek for a Prophet," he muttered sourly, guessing if he pulled this off he'd be luckier than normal.

**The next day:**

"Didn't you listen to when I warned the dork in the trench coat about knocking me out?" Morgan was demanding when Sam finally got downstairs the next day.

The sharp tone warned him that his friend was angry with someone and given that only two people could have done what she was yelling about he could guess which one it had been even before he saw Bobby shaking his head. "Which one?"

"MacShayne since he was the chucklehead who put her to sleep last night," the older man held out a small duffle bag and it was clear he was trying to mask how concerned he was. "Sam, I'd go with you if I could but…"

"We'll need you here for data and information, Bobby," Sam winced as he heard what sounded like a body hitting a wall. "Morg and I'll bring Dean back," he promised, hoping he could keep that promise when the older man grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip.

"You watch your back and Morgan's with that future idjit, boy," Bobby growled, knowing that there was something Sam wasn't telling him about this arrangement. "I don't trust him especially since that angel asshole brought him into this so watch yourself."

Nodding, Sam took the duffel before stepping outside to see that for once Castiel was staying silent as Morgan was smacking the mystic in the chest with her hand while 'Dean' from 2014 had just stepped out of the house behind Sam.

"I needed to stay awake in case Sam woke up or…" she was arguing but paused long enough to throw a glare over her shoulder at the aforementioned hunter. "Not a word, Sam."

"Wouldn't dream of it but you do know that you and Dean tend to have the same over hyper protective tendencies, right?," Sam covered his grin before it seemed to fade as he looked at the shiny black Impala parked in front of the house. He was still sore after his encounters with that witch even though the cut on his arm had been healed he wasn't certain how he felt about driving the car his brother babied. Touching the car's hood, Sam glanced down to see that Morgan was watching him and he read her concern. "I know I took the car to Massachusetts but that was a case of 'had to' and I wasn't thinking but now…" he ran a hand through hair that was already showing signs of stress. "Not knowing where Dean is or what's being done…I can't drive…"

"It would be quicker if Jack just teleported us there," Castiel finally spoke but knew the response he'd get even before he heard Jack snort and got three dark looks aimed at him. "I was just considering the time element and…"

'Dean' shook his head firmly while shouldering his duffel. "I know I might've whined and griped more than once when you lost the mojo in my time but the one thing I never bitched about you losing is the ability to zap me places since bad things tended to happen after one of those trips," he replied, breathing catching as a set of keys were tossed his way. "What?"

"Sam's not in shape physically to drive a long way. He can't handle driving the Impala while this is happening with Dean. I refuse to get behind the wheel of Dean's 'baby' when I don't know if another seizure will hit so that leaves you, slick," Morgan declared easily, feeling Sam's wide eyes on her but was more interested in the look of shock that was being directed her way from the other 'Dean'. "Unless you don't remember how to drive a car, that is since from what I've heard of your time you let the Impala get gutted."

Scowling at the young woman who he knew was putting on a brave front for Sam, 'Dean' looked from her to the car that he could still recall meaning the same to him as this one meant to the younger Dean of this time before he took the keys fully. "Y'know, I'd forgotten how sarcastic you could be at this age when you put your mind to it or just wanted to annoy me," he told her sourly but waited until Morgan had turned to grin a little before eyeing the still unhappy looking mystic. "We'll go see Chuck while you work on that spell and other stuff."

"Fine but just remember that if anything threatens that geek you'll be dealing with a pissed off Archangel and I'm not certain if the boss can handle that right now," Jack warned sternly, not pleased with this plan or this man since he just rang of bad karma.

"I don't plan on threatening Chuck, MacShayne," 'Dean' replied then shrugged as he sent a look over the roof of the Impala. "What she does is totally out of my hands though," he added, opening the driver's door to slide behind the wheel and felt years melt away as the familiar smells and senses that just being in this car brought back to him. "My girl never liked Chuck since she always said he was weird so I can't wait to see how this one reacts to the guy writing the future 'Winchester Gospels'."

Having a mild disagreement with Sam on who was getting the backseat, Morgan's blue eyes shot up at that comment before she pinned Jack with a dark look. "How'd we miss that one, genuis?" she demanded, debating on frying the mystic when Sam gently nudged her into the front seat before she could object. "Hey! You sit up here with…"

"I always sat in the back when you were with us so those rules still apply," the younger man remarked, hoping she bought that excuse since he wasn't ready to admit the real reason he was claiming the backseat.

As Castiel reluctantly climbed into the backseat alongside Sam, Morgan was about to point out that Sam was twelve that summer and sat in the backseat because he enjoyed popping up over the seat in the middle of conversations. She opted not to when she noticed the way his hazel eyes kept moving to the other 'Dean' behind the wheel of a car that both of them knew only their Dean should be driving.

"So, can you actually drive or what?" she asked curiously, understanding Sam's unease since even the vibes were wrong about sitting in the front seat of the Impala with a man who was so alike and so different than her friend.

Running his hand over the dashboard, 'Dean' slid a well known look across the car but hoped no one noticed the way his hand shook as he started the car. "Like riding a bike, sweetheart," he responded, feeling Sam's gaze but ignoring it in favor of putting the car in gear. "One of you can explain to Dean why you let me drive since we all know he'll be pissed off anyway."

"I just want him back. Then I'll handle the fallout since there'll be a lot of it for this gig," Morgan muttered, looking out the side window while touching her necklace and hoping her friend was strong enough to hold on a little longer even though the loss of their link worried her for more than one reason.

Driving straight from South Dakota to where Chuck Shirley a.k.a. Carver Edlund the author who as Sam and Dean discovered had been writing books based on their lives lived wasn't an easy thing. Though Sam had to admit that this older alternate version of his brother handled the driving a lot better than he'd expected even though it still creeped him out when he woke once to a silent car when his brother would've been blaring some type of music.

Morgan whimpered suddenly in the front seat and shifted uneasily which caused both Sam and 'Dean' to glance at her and wonder how long Dean could block the link and if it was coming back, what did that mean for his brother.

Pulling up in front of what appeared to be a run down house, Dean parked the Impala with a jerk that caused a low threat to be thrown his way from beside him until Castiel straightened up suddenly to gaze at the house.

"Something's wrong," he announced grimly, eyes staring at the house as Sam exited the car slowly to look around the area.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked, automatically checking to be sure that her weapons were accessible in case her powers didn't work.

'Dean' had been watching the house since he pulled up, suspicions growing so he pulled the weapon he carried under his jacket. "If Zachariah suspected that we'd look Chuck up for his information on how to find Dean it might not be an Archangel that will come calling but Enforcers looking to shut him up."

"Not even Zachariah can harm a Prophet," Castiel argued with a frown though after what he has seen Zachariah do trying to hurt an actual Prophet wouldn't surprise him. "An Archangel would…"

"Like Raphael?" 'Dean' sneered, going to step around the Impala only to have Sam's arm shoot across his chest. "Issues, Sammy?"

Eyeing the man cautiously, Sam glanced at the house. "Chuck's kind of…skittish at the best of times so maybe let me knock?" he suggested, noticing that Castiel still wasn't looking at ease and that Morgan's eyes had changed slightly in a way that meant she was sensing something. "You just stay back a second until I try to explain…"

"Sam!" Morgan screamed just as something shoved the young hunter out of the way of a shiny knife wielded by a black suited Angel enforcer.

"Get inside and find that geek!" Jack MacShayne snapped while turning to confront the enforcer that had been aiming for Sam. "Zach can't kill a Prophet but he can rearrange certain memories without bringing the wrath of an Archangel down on him!"

Castiel had pulled his own Angel killing dagger out to help Jack deal with the multiple enforcers that had appeared while a scream came from the house.

"Shit! I hate these blokes!" Morgan figured she'd risk her powers but pulled the knife she always carried out while Sam's long legs took him to the front door ahead of her. "Sam, be careful!" she snapped, hearing the shotgun blast the lock off. "To think, he's supposed the be the mild mannered one."

"Sammy's more like Dad than either of them ever wanted to admit," 'Dean' remarked, firing a round to offer some distraction for the young woman who followed Sam. "Stick to Sam, find Chuck and keep him in one piece. I'll catch up."

Morgan did a double take at that suggestion but the sound of the shotgun firing again made her hurry into the house to find Sam and what, according to her mystic, had to be the weirdest Prophet in history.

"Zachariah won't be pleased with this change in plans, boy."

Knowing that Castiel and Jack were well beyond hearing as they handled the enforcers, 'Dean' kept his back turned to the one who had appeared out of the shadows from the side of the house. "You tell Zachariah that he has his plans and I have mine. Going after Dean wasn't anywhere in our original deal but I'll keep my end up and Sam Winchester'll die but on my damn terms now get the hell out of my face, asshole," he growled, knowing he was alone even before he looked. "Damn, I should just go back to hell. It'll hurt less than this crap."

"Sam!" Morgan had cleared the door just in time to see a scrawny looking man dressed in only a pair of worn out sleep pants and a ragged robe run across the living room just as Sam Winchester was thrown into a wall. "Sammy! Get the nerd out of here!"

Seeing that Sam was only moving a little caused instant concern that doubled when Morgan saw blood on his forehead just a second before she caught movement from the corner to where an enforcer was trying to drag a shouting Chuck out from his cover in order to rearrange his memories. "Fry, featherbrain," she lifted a hand and with a thought that goon was taken out with a flash of power but before she could tell the confused man to either run or hide, she nearly screamed as burning pain tore up her arm, through her nervous system and took her down to the floor as tiny trembles began.

"Zachariah knew you and the Lucifer vessel would come for advice from the Prophet, whore," a crew cut wearing enforcer remarked with a sneer, looking back as the bearded scruffy looking Prophet cowered under his desk. "Our orders were to just make certain the Prophet here didn't know or remember anything of interest in regards to the Michael Sword's location but if we can take you both out then all the better," the Enforcer told her, not concerned with the young woman since he seemed to be expecting her collapse after trying to use her powers. "The drug should've killed you had the older version of Winchester used both vials but one vial will cause an instant negative reaction the moment you try to use your powers at full strength and…" a hard foot came down on the wrist that held the dagger that could take out both Angel or demon. "You won't be needing that so before I deal with Lucifer's vessel I'll take care of you."

Realizing that without either her power or the use of the arm to strike out with the knife, she had no chance in Hell to defend Sam or this Chuck person, Morgan fought past the burning pain again to let out a mental shout for Jack. When the desk light reflected off the shiny blade all Angels carried as it raised to strike. "Without you or Lucifer's vessel to interfere, the Michael Sword will belong to who it always has. It's just a shame that you won't get a chance to see what Zachariah has done to it or…him," the enforcer sneered, slashing the knife down to cut across the young woman's throat while a terrified Prophet looked on in horror.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Sorry this took so long. More action in the coming chapters as we see if Chuck can help Sam and Morgan locate Dean in time or is it already too late? Will Dean survive to be rescued or has Zachariah won and just what will the future Dean do when push comes to shove? Stay tuned for Chapter 8.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Eight**

Chuck Shirley had known his somewhat normal, if boring, life of simply writing the things that would come to him in his dreams had ended the day two young men had showed up on his door claiming to be the real life extensions of characters he'd believed he had created.

He still had a hard time believing that he was an actual 'Prophet of the Lord' or that what he dreamed and wrote would come true but up until recently it had and in a way he was terrified because a visit from Zachariah told him just how far the Angel was willing to go to get what he wanted.

However, even Chuck hadn't been expecting what was happening now. His dreams had been shadowy and harder to see and he couldn't understand why. He had known or suspected when he began dreaming of darker images, hearing screams that he'd heard before and finally when he had seen things involving Dean Winchester that he'd be getting a visit soon…he just hadn't been expecting the suit wearing Angel enforcers to arrive first or what happened next.

Scrambling for safety under his desk, Chuck had been pretty certain this was another horrid alcohol induced nightmare until the shotgun blast was heard and he caught the familiar profile of a very upset but determined Sam Winchester deal with one enforcer before the young hunter was thrown across the room and didn't move.

"Sam!" Chuck was about to try something brave when one of the Angel's tried to grab him only to be dealt with a burst of power that took the scruffy looking Prophet off guard. Peeking out from under his barrier at the unexpected painful scream of a young woman that he'd only seen in shadows in his visions he dove back under cover as the Angel raised his knife to slice.

"Hey!"

Not concerned with the girl he was about to kill, the crew-cut wearing Angel enforcer looked up at the sharp voice to see Sam Winchester leaning against the far wall, blood dripping from his hand as he held it up to the obviously hastily scrawled blood sign on the wall. "Winchester…"

"Tell your boss when you pull yourself back together that he's not getting to hurt either my friend…or my brother, asshole," Sam slammed his bloody palm against the symbol after averting his eyes to avoid the bright flash of white light that immediately took out any leftover goons and only left a silent room until finally Sam was moving. "Chuck, you alright?"

"Ummm, no!" came the instant retort from under the desk. "In case you didn't notice I had Angels trying to kill me! What the hell, Sam?"

Quickly wrapping his bleeding hand in a cloth he found laying over a chair, Sam wondered how he'd answer that when he dropped to his knees next to his unmoving friend. "Morgan?"

Instantly noticing the way the young British woman was trembling, Sam also noticed other things this time that alarmed him. The way she was trying to curl up into a ball as if protecting herself and the way her right hand was jerking.

Sam had heard a little of what the Angel had been saying and swore violently as he carefully reached down to lift his friend up into his arms in order to place her on the couch that had barely escaped being turned over.

"Sam?" figuring it was safe to come out, Chuck slowly crawled out from under the desk to notice the younger Winchester hovering over the young woman who had tried to save both of them.

Knowing he needed to explain to Chuck what was happening before the 'Dean' from 2014 came in, Sam's attention was locked on how pale his friend was once again, the way her nose was bleeding & how shallow her breathing was.

"They…they weren't trying to kill you," he finally replied, looking up as Chuck appeared behind the sofa. "They were trying to wipe your mind."

"Oh, that's so much better than killing me, Sam," Chuck muttered, reaching for an unbroken bottle of liquor on the floor even as he heard voices coming in from the front. "I thought I was supposed to be so important to these guys. So vital that I had protection from an Archangel if someone threatens me. What the hell do I know that other Angels don't want me to…oh…oh, shit," he drew off as something began to dawn on him, slumping into a battered chair to rub both hands over his face. "Oh, this is so bad. I thought it was just another nightmare…not a 'dream' like that since it didn't make sense and…"

"Zachariah has Dean, Chuck and Morgan can't find him since he blocked their link so…and this is where it may get confusing," Sam coughed, keeping a hand on Morgan's wrist as if checking for anything broken as a door slammed and a pissed off mystic could be heard.

"I thought I told you to watch Sam and Morgan!" Jack MacShayne was beyond furious as he stalked into the torn up living room, took a look around, picked up what had happened and got furious all over again. "Damn it!"

'Dean' had managed to fight the urge to do just that but he had to see what Zachariah would do to the Prophet, not to mention the kids, when he took in the condition of both Sam and Morgan. "Sam's been fighting Angels since he let Lucifer out, MacShayne. He can handle 'em and…"

"_He's_ still hurt from recent events and my boss _cannot_ fight Angels in the shape _she's_ in thanks to you, dumbass!" Jack snapped back, taking a quick look between Sam and the scrawny guy. "This is a Prophet?"

"That's what Dean still asks," Sam responded, seeing the way Chuck tensed at the new arrivals but was too busy getting ready to lunge for the older 'Dean's' throat. "That Enforcer knew if Morg tried to use her full powers it'd hurt her. Just what the hell other effects will that drug give her and why's she jerking like this?" he demanded, refusing to panic but it was getting harder. "This isn't like when she had those seizures. What's happening and how can I fix it?"

Castiel had stepped into the room while straightening his ever present trench coat when he heard Sam's question and answered on instinct. "You can't."

"God, I just remembered why I hated him in this stage," 'Dean' groaned, taking a step back to brace himself since he knew what would come next. "Sammy…"

Emotions and fears running side by side, Sam's normal restraint was pushed to the breaking point and the moment Morgan whimpered in whatever uneasy restlessness her injuries had put her in and he noticed the heat pouring off the still swelled veins in the arm that had been injected that he finally snapped.

"Winchester!" Jack snapped a second too late as Sam lunged for the alternate version of his brother to slam him over the desk to crash to the floor. "Damn, I hate this family," he groaned, eyeing the more than wary little Prophet before shifting a gaze at Morgan and feeling what was wrong. "Cas, watch her and the nerd while I try to break this up without frying one or the other."

"Wouldn't it go against your own by-laws to hurt Sam, Jack?" Castiel asked innocently, nodding his head to Chuck as if to reassure him when he heard the low growl that came his way. "Are you well, Chuck?"

Staring between the always calm Angel and the nearly snarling black haired guy that Chuck had never even dreamed of before, the Prophet/writer felt like laughing if he didn't know how deep he was in it. "No, not really," he admitted, wincing as he watched Sam throw punches that weren't returned until finally a hard and fast fist came up to slam into the young hunter's jaw.

"I've taken more than I normally do even from you, Sam," 'Dean' growled, easily rolling to his feet to avoid the boy's next blow and deciding to end this before the mystic got involved. "Sam, I know you're pissed but I told you that I didn't know the drug I used was switched or what it'd do to Morgan," he blocked a clumsy strike that normally he knew any version of Sam could land easily and that concerned him. "Now, what the mystic and Cas know of the effects are a different matter."

Pulling his next punch in mid throw, Sam was turning to glare at the mentioned mystic when the bleeding wound on his temple from the fight inside the house reminded him it was there and only a quick grab from a man he still didn't trust kept him from going down on his face.

"Don't touch me," he managed to grit out while jerking free to go back toward the couch. "What's Cas mean and where the hell is my brother?"

"If you and the dork from the alternate future will quit fighting for five minutes maybe we can at least get the answer to that last question," Jack snapped, making sure to shoot Castiel a warning glare before eyeing the geeky looking Prophet. "So, I'm told you're writing the Winchester Gospels."

Chuck blinked before taking a swig of the bottle he was holding, blurring his eyes as if in hopes this would all be gone but groaned when it wasn't. "God, I thought all this was just one of those horrible nightmares that never made sense…I've had lots of those but…"

"I've been living in a damn nightmare since I got stuck babysitting the Hardy Boys here a few years back," Jack scowled, glaring at Sam but chose to ignore the slap that came from the other Winchester in the room. "You are living on borrowed time, dude so I'd stop slapping me and when I get a moment remind me to ask you how the hell you know what you know when it comes to hurting me!"

"I was married to a woman who probably knew a lot more than this version does about you and your kind, MacShayne and Morgan taught me one or two things," 'Dean' shrugged, knowing he needed to push down the urge to check on Sam but was finding it harder until he remembered what was at stake for him. "So, Chuck, you got a clue to what's going on or…"

"You're not Dean…I mean you're not this Sam's Dean," Chuck's eyes got wide as he looked to see that Sam's attention was back on the young woman who was starting to come around. "You're…oh man…this is so bad."

"Finally I can agree with a Prophet on something," Jack muttered darkly, reaching down to touch Morgan's neck to check her pulse only to have his hand slapped away. "Sam."

Taking a quick step to put himself between Sam and the mystic, 'Dean' rolled his eyes at a gaping Chuck. "Odds are good that Jack and the kid here probably haven't been in too many of your dreams, have they?"

"Why wouldn't he have seen the boss if he's seen everything else these two yo-yos have done?" Jack asked, wondering who he should keep an eye on first since he knew if Castiel opened his mouth about possible side-effects that Sam would go off but the geek in the robe looked ready to run like a jackrabbit. "I thought Prophets saw all and knew all."

"Do I look like I have a magic 8-ball around here, mister?" Chuck snapped back, feeling about as out of his element as he did the first day the Winchesters showed up on his doorstep. "I'm still getting used to this whole Prophet of the Lord stuff and knowing that Sam and Dean are real people ain't easy since…well, it's hard to see this kind of crap and know that it's happening to real people," taking another drink to try to steady his nerves before rolling his eyes.

"You give me the same edgy feelings that Zachariah does up to a point and I've only seen her, or what I think is her, in foggy dreams that made it hard to see Dean or Sam," he jerked open a desk drawer to pull out a handful of papers. "Plenty of plots that came to me only to get changed or stopped after I had one of those foggy dreams. It's like I can't see her like I do the brothers or even Castiel or…him."

Jack had snapped his fingers to bring the papers to him only to have 'Dean' snatch some from him to skim over them before letting out a very Dean-like sounding 'huh'. "Sammy, when the hell were you going to join a Frat house in college and you damn well better say this never happened," the alternate man sounded pissed just at reading the page in his hand.

"Huh?" turning to see a sheet of scribbled on paper waving in his face. "I…I was…Jess kind of pushed me toward one at Stanford but…the night before initiation I…well one of my Professors talked me out it and…" he glanced at the paper before jerking his eyes back to one section in particular and paling. "No, this never…I mean…they never…Chuck, why'd you…"

"I wrote what I saw, Sam but then the whole thing changed out of the damn blue after I got a migraine, had a foggy nightmare and the next day you'd dropped the whole fraternity idea," Chuck could only shrug, deciding to avoid the now clearly upset mystic as he read through his discarded stories. "Both you and Dean have had loads of stuff that I started on only to have it change mid-draft. It's still like that too but more so since…"

"Oregon?" Sam had begun to get an idea of what could've been causing the changes to the plots as he read what was clearly an event that brought back other memories, things that he felt sick thinking about even Chuck knowing, until he felt a hand touch his shoulder. "She did something to stop me from joining. Morgan stopped this from happening but why didn't Chuck…"

As Jack grumbled about the lunacy in his life and the horrid record keeping of his own younger brother, Castiel finally spoke as he was quick to move the hand he had placed on the upset hunter's shoulder.

"A Prophet, any of them including Chuck, can't see the girl clearly or without much difficulty because she's an enigma in this business, Sam," he replied, struggling to explain in terms Sam and Chuck could understand but faltered.

Finally a balled up sheet of paper was thrown across the room with a full on curse that would have been right at home for any version of Dean Winchester. "Morgan's powers have always made her impossible to read so anytime she gets involved with you or Dean it can end up changing things that should've happened or stop things completely," he explained, sitting on the sofa arm to try to tell how the young woman was faring from the most recent attack. "That's why Zachariah wants her dead because little Morgan is the only other person who can possibly change your destinies and the big boys up top don't want that."

"So whenever one of my plots took a sudden twist it was because…" Chuck blinked down to take a closer look as Morgan began to move uneasily on the sofa. "I didn't think anyone had that kind of power. Is she an…I mean, Angels can change stuff so is she…?"

"Please, my boss is so far from being an Angel it's not funny," Jack nearly choked at the suggestion, letting Sam have the other papers even though he doubted he'd like what he read. "We've never really been able to gauge why her powers can affect both Angel or Demon or why she can do what she does. It was never really an issue until I found out about her connection to these two," he debated on offering a snide remark but chose not to in case his friend was more awake than she was letting on. "Now that I see she's been covering for Sam and his brother since she was fourteen and that she can actually hurt an Angel, I think I have more issues."

Speed reading another few pages, Sam wondered if Dean honestly knew of some of the things that Morgan had stopped in both their lives and how it would affect things if he did. "How many times was she hurt keeping him safe?" he demanded suddenly, folding the papers back up to return them to Chuck when he felt the first surge of power go through his fingers as he gently squeezed her hand. "How many times did she bail me out that I didn't know about it and does Dean know about San Antonio? Did that happen? Did my Dad really do what Chuck wrote?"

Jack was clearly not willing to get into this as 'Dean' only shook his head. "My timeline differs too much in this area for me to answer you, Sam and probably Jack wouldn't know since Devan was the one watching Morgan then," he did remark, having read those passages himself and guessed the anger Sam probably was feeling and what Dean would feel if he ever learned the truth. "Though if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Dean didn't know about what happened to her in San Antonio anymore than Morgan knew about Boston and what Dean stopped from happening."

"What did Dean stop?" Sam demanded, trying to split his attention in too many ways when he felt the change in the room an instant before a worn recliner blew up as Morgan sat up with a scream that died the moment wide blue eyes landed on the still confused Prophet.

"Where. Is. He?" she asked quietly, the lack of her normal accent warning both Sam and the 'Dean' from 2014 of trouble to come.

Having difficulty in focusing, Morgan didn't immediately realize that Sam was still holding her arm until she glanced down and the knowledge that full feeling or strength wasn't returning in the arm brought back something she remembered hearing from the Angel Enforcer. "That drug you hit me with had other side effects, didn't it?"

Nearly grateful to give Chuck a chance to think up either an answer or an excuse, 'Dean' could only shrug since he honestly wasn't certain of the effects. He was about to say that when another voice piped up.

"Actually you're faring far better even under one vial of that drug than a normal person would have or should have," Castiel mused, either missing or not understanding the sharp looks he was getting from Jack and 'Dean' and continuing. "Two vials should have killed you. A single vial of that drug normally should've left you in a near coma by now, also blind or deaf and with increasing paralysis…Jack, did you just try to blink me out?"

"If I didn't think the Prophet here would mind blood on his damn walls I would have blasted your stupid ass outta here," Jack gritted, feeling like his head would explode sooner rather than later if his relative didn't stop opening his damn mouth. "Boss, any serious effects would've hit by now but you just can't use full power until the drug is out of your system but…you'll be fine and we will find Winchester," he promised while hoping she didn't see thru the first part of that lie.

Looking around the disheveled room, Morgan's eyes slowly shifted from trying to gauge Jack to Sam. "Let it go," she murmured as if seeing what his emotions were saying and then returned her gaze to Chuck. "You see them; you wrote those damn bloody books that my lawyers tried to get stopped so now make use of it and tell me where the bloody hell my friend is before I test just what it takes to kill an Archangel if something threatens you."

"Ummm," Chuck blinked, surprised not only by the threat that came from a girl who looked about ready to pass out again but by how much she reminded him of Dean the day the elder Winchester threatened him in order to get help for Sam. He also had no doubts that she'd carry out the threat.

"Yeah, my Morg didn't like Chuck very much either at this stage," 'Dean' coughed, being sure to cover his smirk with his hand when he noticed something he didn't care for and pounced. "What the hell did you see, little girl?"

The sharp hard edge of the future 'Dean's' voice made Sam tense and go to move only to have his stiffening arm shoved away as the man grabbed for Morgan's wrist. "Hey, don't touch…oh my God," he stopped in mid-threat when he finally noticed what the older man had. "What…how…" Sam didn't think the Enforcer had cut or hurt his friend this seriously when something began to dawn on him. "I saw wounds like this before…in Nevada when we stayed at the cabin when I was twelve. These are Dean's wounds, aren't they?"

"It's nothing, they just…" Morgan went to jerk her arm free only to freeze when the grip tightened enough to hold but not hurt as 'Dean' turned her arm in order to examine the jagged red cuts and the livid bruises and she heard both his low curses and the fear in Sam's voice. "I just saw something flash before it was gone but I heard Dean…then it was gone but the wounds shouldn't be this bad unless I'm…"

"What have you seen, Chuck?" 'Dean' demanded without looking at the frowning Prophet, keeping his eyes on Morgan's arm and slowly made a move to ease her shirt away from her side when he stopped as soon as he felt her go still. "If they're letting Dean's wounds show on you then they're trying to draw you and Sam in which means things have gotten to the point that I hope they haven't because neither you nor Sam are ready for that. Chuck?"

Swallowing the lump that had formed, the scruffy Prophet rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "It's been shadowed…" he argued, sighing when a pair of intense green eyes pinned him. "But I did see something before it was shut down."

"Shit!" Sam had been looking at his friend when he noticed what appeared to be a livid burn forming on the back of her neck. "What the hell? This isn't how their link worked before and Dean would die before he let any of his wounds show on…no…they wouldn't…"

"Dean's not dead, Sammy," the elder Winchester from the future assured him grimly, feeling the pain Morgan was covering through the dulled link he could still manage and carefully tried to smooth it over. "It's a lot worse than that," he muttered under his breath, unconsciously brushing his thumb over the palm of the hand he was holding while turning to watch Chuck. "What?"

Deciding that he needed to be drunker than he was to handle this, Chuck took another drink before bringing back one of his more recent dreams. "It was like Zachariah or whoever didn't care if I saw them torturing Dean or drugging him and making him see…OW!"

"Dude, Prophet or not, protection of an Archangel or not, you piss my boss off and she will fry your ass so watch what you say," Jack urged, keeping a careful eye on all parties involved since he wasn't caring for how pale Morgan was becoming. He also didn't like the way Sam was shifting uneasily and he sure didn't care for the look on the alternate 'Dean's' face right then. "Now, skip the stuff that will freak her and Sam out and get to the part that tells me where the hell my Uncle is so I can go fry his fat head."

Giving the mystic a surprised look, Chuck slowly considered. "All I saw were like cold walls, a tiny room with…skipping ahead but the outside looked really old like something out of a western with a bell and…hey, is she alright?" he asked when Morgan moved quickly to push away from the couch only to nearly fall.

"Morg?" Sam was quick to catch her but frowned when his friend jerked back from him "What's wrong? Did you see what Chuck did or is it something else?"

Still feeling on edge from everything recently, Morgan supposed she shouldn't have been shocked by this sick turn of events but even the idea that the Angels could be holding her friend there made what little was still on her stomach want to come up. "No, they can't be there," she whispered, fingers clutching the necklace she wore but felt an even worse feeling come when she touched it.

"Where, Chuck?" Sam asked, getting an even worse feeling than he had about his brother's condition and not liking the way Morgan was avoiding any personal contact with either him or the alternate version of his brother whose eyes were now locked on the young woman. "Give me something to go on. A city or a state or…"

"I saw a sign that said…San Antonio but I can't be sure if that's where Dean is or if it's something else," Chuck shrugged, looking like a sad puppy when he knew his friend wanted more answers. "The rest is shadows and…Sam, I honestly wasn't looking forward to going deeper if what I saw was true but…"

Shooting Castiel a look to stay quiet, Jack considered what he'd heard and what he'd picked up on his own. "San Antonio…great. I hate Texas and since that city is gonna be one hellava needle in the proverbial haystack this will take more time than we've got," he complained, wondering if he could get Ethan or someone to cast a locating spell.

"The Alamo," Morgan spoke softly but it was the underlying tone that concerned the mystic as he hadn't heard the listless, almost dead one in a long time. "They're holding Dean at the Alamo."

"How do you know this?" Castiel wondered, missing the eyeroll the future 'Dean' offered in return and seemed oblivious to how pale the young woman seemed at the very idea of the location.

It was Chuck who broke into the conversation by clearing his throat loudly. "Sam? Can I talk to you a second in the kitchen?"

"About what?" Sam didn't seem eager to leave his friend in the state she seemed to be in until the shorter man yanked on his arm. "Fine but if you touch her you won't make it to the end of this to finish our deal," he tossed back to 'Dean'. "Morgan, I'll be right back. Just sit down and calm down before another of those damn seizures hit and Chuck!"

The sliding pocket doors shut off the rest of Sam's complaints as the Prophet was quick to pull them closed behind them and leaning against them, letting out a long breath.

"Have you lost your mind?" Chuck rarely spoke out of turn or raised his voice, especially to a Winchester but this time it just came out and if he was cowed by the way Sam towered over him or the way the younger man's eyebrow winged up in surprise, he didn't show it. Instead, he barely stopped himself from grabbing Sam by the jacket to shake him. "That…'Dean' out there…he's not your brother, Sam."

Still vividly recalling the first moment he laid eyes on the older, colder 'Dean' Sam could've told Chuck that he was well aware of that but it was more complicated than what it appeared when he was cut off by the hyper Prophet.

"Sam! He's going to kill you! No matter what he says or does, this 'Dean' is playing his own agenda and you and…Morgan are gonna be caught in the crossfire," Chuck paced his cluttered kitchen restlessly while trying to figure out a way to say what he'd been seeing. "I know Zachariah is calling the shots but you can't trust him to follow through with whatever deal you made. If he sees a chance at taking out you and Zachariah he'll probably take it."

Sliding the door open enough to peer out, Sam's hazel eyes were serious as he watched the other version of his brother kneel next to where Morgan had sat on the floor with her back against the sofa. "I have to trust that he'll keep his promise and not hurt her because I'm not letting him out of my sight too much until I know both Dean and Morgan will be safe and then…well, he can try to kill me but Lucifer may have other ideas."

"You'd better worry about the plans Dean has right now," Chuck muttered under his breath. "It's a trap, Sam. You have to know that you and her are walking into a trap. I can't see by who or what's going to happen yet but…"

"He's my brother, Chuck and he came back for me in West Virginia knowing that I was bait for him," Sam glanced down with a sad smile. "He went to Hell for me; he's sacrificed so damn much for me. I'll do the same and I'll get Dean back…even if I do have to die to it but…" he paused as he considered what he wanted to ask as he glanced back out to feel his blood go cold the second he noticed that Morgan was holding the silver necklace in her palm rather than wearing it. "The Alamo…is that where…is that where Dad set her up? Is that where she was hurt?"

Suddenly finding the frayed ends of the belt to his robe interesting until Sam made an almost pained sigh and finally Chuck met his eyes. "Yeah," he acknowledged quietly, holding out the folded papers. "This isn't everything, Sam but…now that I know I wasn't going crazy and someone else was messing in my plots well…I guess you should see some of what you and Dean could've faced. I can't control things with her in it…even now, I can't say if she'll recover or…damn…"

"I'm not stupid, Chuck. I know that Morg will probably have a lot of serious and lasting aftereffects from that drug but I have to hope that if I get Dean back, he can help her because he can't lose both of us…not like this version did," Sam replied grimly, reaching for the door when another thought occurred to him. "What can you tell me about this 'Dean's' future?" he asked suddenly. "What happened to change him like this and what really happened to his wife, to his version of Morgan?"

"Oh, brother," Chuck groaned, knowing this was even touchier ground but would do what he could to give Sam an edge in case he needed it in the future.

**Meanwhile in the other room:**

Leaving Jack to dispute the wiseness of just charging in with Castiel, 'Dean' considered his next move. He hadn't been counting on something allowing Morgan to feel Dean enough that their link would allow his wounds to show on her. He had no doubts that this was another one of Zachariah's plans and that worried him.

Guessing what Chuck was probably saying to Sam, he had to hope that the kid's need to get his brother back outweighed his common sense right now. 'Dean' figured why the Angel's were suddenly willing to let their location be revealed…he just wasn't sure how to handle it.

On the one hand, he accepted that if he let the kids go into this believing they were simply rescuing Dean then a good portion of his problem could be handled without him even having to do anything. He was afraid he knew exactly the threat Sam and Morgan would be facing in San Antonio and it wasn't necessarily going to be Enforcers.

Then he recalled the promise he made to Sam and things became slightly more complicated because he knew the boy would be more than willing to sacrifice his own life for his brother. He knew this because he recalled how close his own brother had come to doing just that for him in a similar situation in what now was like a different life.

"Sam can't go."

The soft whisper caught his attention when he knelt down next to where Morgan had finally settled back against the front of the sofa. He had assumed there was another reason she was acting on edge right then and since he had been quick to remove the sheets of paper from the roll that described in detail the events of San Antonio years earlier so Sam didn't learn it all, he was careful not to touch her fully just then.

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you, Angel," he remarked easily, frowning as he watched her remove the silver heart necklace he recognized well from around her neck to slide it between her fingers. "If we were being honest, neither one of you should go near that place but Sammy'll insist on going. He's stubborn that way."

"Something's…wrong," Morgan kept her eyes on the necklace Dean had given her years before until she slowly let her gaze lift to the other man's whose eyes still made her fear for the life Dean may still have. "What I saw when waking up wasn't a vision, it wasn't a dream but like something or someone blasting the bond with images…sick, perverted images and I feel him now and it's…"

Being careful to move slowly, 'Dean' took the necklace to study it for a long moment and blinked when even he felt a negative charge from it but managed not to offer the opinion of that he nearly did. "Dean's hurt, babe and I can't promise what we'll find so maybe you should stay here with Chuck while…Morgan, you can't protect Sam if you're emotions wipe you out and we both know what going back there will…"

Sharp blue eyes shot a warning a second before a weak shock went through the fingers he'd laid on her arm. "Sam and Dean will never know about San Antonio. Just like you will never tell Sam about Dean's time in Hell unless you want me to kick your bloody ass back to your time," she warned lowly, trying not to show how weak her right arm was. Or, how much pain she was still in. "I'll risk coma or death if I use my powers to help my friends and no matter what that Angel did to Dean, I can undo it if I can get close enough to him. You, on the other hand, had better not double-cross Sam or else…oh, God…"

The necklace had been placed back in her palm and instantly dark images of chains, blood, screams and of Dean all hit her until Morgan thought she'd pass out until firm fingers gripped her neck. "It's not him," she whispered, needing to believe that above all else. "It's an Angel trick to play with Sam's mind, right?"

"Yeah, that's what it is," 'Dean' knew what she was seeing and nearly felt a slap from beyond the grave for the lie he just offered. However, he knew it would be hard enough on her to return to the site of where she'd been so brutally hurt after trying to help her friend that he couldn't tell her the truth just then. "You can't keep this from Sam because he knows something happened but just not the full details and if you don't tell him either Dean will eventually pick it up or Chuck will blab. That guy, for a Prophet, has got the loosest lips I've ever seen."

Glancing up as the kitchen doors opened, Morgan shot the future 'Dean' a more desperate look. "He's worried about Dean, Lucifer, & now you so I'll worry about what Sam does or doesn't find out," she replied, moving to stand only to have her leg start to give out until calloused fingers gripped her elbow for support.

"This before or after you fall flat on that pretty face, Angel?" 'Dean' countered sweetly, nearly smirking at the all too familiar look she shot him as Sam came over and there was no mistaking the silent warning in the younger Winchester's eyes. "So, Chuck tell you how stupid you were to trust me?"

"I already know that," Sam returned, trying to appear casual when he eased Morgan away from the future 'Dean' and not let on when he felt her tense. "Chuck was telling me other stuff."

A cold look crossed the other man's face but it went away in favor of the more casual and more Dean-like expression that he knew annoyed Sam. "Keep your head in the game, Sammy because now it's more than just your life on the line," he warned carefully, lowering his voice so only Sam would hear since Jack and Castiel's argument seemed to have drew Morgan's attention. "Zach's got a plan and he wants her dead. You need to watch your back, watch her and don't trust everything you see."

"I don't want Morgan to go into this, especially not with how weak she is and if she can't use her abilities fully," Sam argued, glancing back when he heard Castiel let out a grunt. "Morg, don't hit him," he called wearily, seeing the other man's smirk. "She can't go."

More amused than he knew he should be, 'Dean' couldn't help but laugh. "I know I said that it was a shame that your Dean lost so many years with her but I swear between you and Morgan…you'd have him a raging alcoholic by just trying to keep you both out of trouble. She doesn't want you to go and you don't want her to. It's really cute…if we had the time to deal with cute but if you want your brother back we need to go…now."

"What're you planning on doing while Morgan and I get Dean out?" Sam asked, missing the flash of darker emotion in the opposite set of green eyes as his thoughts were torn between watching his pale friend poke Castiel in the chest and worry for his older brother. "Do I have to worry about getting a knife shoved in my back since Chuck says not to trust you or…"

"I'll keep my promise, Sam. Now go get Morgan so we can make a plan," 'Dean' was surprised at how bitter those words even felt as they came off his tongue as he glanced down at the weapon holstered on his thigh and offered a silent apology to the wife and brother he couldn't save.

"Betray either of them and I will make you bleed long before Zach does," Jack MacShayne warned in a harsh whisper as he came from behind him. "Cas and I can handle the Enforcers. My brother Ethan can be called in to help deal with Zachariah if I get swamped but I need you three to grab Winchester and get him the hell outta Dodge as Kel likes to say," he kept his eyes pinned on the alternate 'Dean' as he went on. "We'll handle his injuries and the like once we have him clear and I know Michael didn't sink his hooks into him or anyone else since I do not plan on having a damn repeat of the last time I rescued a Winchester from Zachariah."

Chuck was slumped in his chair at the desk wondering what he could do to help this situation when he shook his head. "It's not the ghost of their Dad that Sam has to worry about," he muttered sourly, looking up quickly. "Sam! Be careful. Dean may not be what…damn it," he scowled as the mystic had already worked a spell to beam them out of the room before he got the warning out. "This is gonna suck," he decided, staring at the pile of papers he pulled from the top desk drawer to notice that several things already seemed different than he'd written them. "Hopefully the big thing changes too."

**Outside the Alamo, San Antonio, Texas:**

"Jack, is it me or are your teleports getting rougher?" Morgan had grabbed for Sam's arm to keep her balance after the mystic zapped them into an area close to the ancient stone historical landmark. "Next time I do the bleedin' 'porting."

Not willing to admit that he was still having issues with his powers due to the damn Apocalypse, Jack rolled his eyes. "Sure, just as soon as you can stay upright and conscious for more than an hour at a time, boss," he replied, growling under his breath when he felt a slight zap go through his hand. "Tell me what the hell your wife taught you and how it affects me."

"My Morg had opened herself up to all of her abilities so she knew exactly what you and your kind were and how to hurt you. She taught me a few things and they clearly still work," 'Dean' shrugged while making sure the short stocked submachine gun he carried was loaded and the other weapons he suspected he'd need were all accessible. "Stop taking cheap shots at her or Sammy and I'll stop with the little zings."

"God but I can't wait to zap you back to your own timeline," Jack muttered, noticing that Castiel was examining the stone structure intently and suspected he knew why. "Yeah, this is a serious problem since with those anti-Angel signs up no Angel not already inside can get in and that means…I so hate dealing with Angels."

Considering if he knew a way around this problem, the Angel in the trench coat considered his nephew. "The book back at Bobby's may have something to break the seal so that I can go in but the question is, can you enter the barrier, Jack?" he questioned curiously. "Amelia was an angel at one time so half of your bloodline is…"

"Yep, but the other half is what'll get me and Ethan if I need him through that barrier," Jack hoped he sounded more confident than he felt, glancing back to be sure where the rest of his party was and not liking that he still couldn't get a solid read on this older version of 'Dean'. "While you're back with that book, check it out to see if there's a spell or something to…in case Zach pulled a stunt and Dean's hurt more than the kids can handle…find me a way to fix it."

Castiel considered that before understanding what was being suggested. "Zachariah had access to drugs that haven't been seen since the Dark Ages, Jack. If he used any of those on Dean then…"

"Just find me something to deal with it, Cas," Jack urged, turning to go toward the others when he glanced back. "If Michael gains control of that kid it won't only be this world blowing up but mine as well since Morgan will fight to save the Winchesters and thanks to Zach's interference she won't have the power like she normally would."

Walking away, the mystic didn't bother to look back as the Angel vanished in a soft rustling of invisible feathers. Instead, he concentrated on reading the emotions that were facing him.

Sam wasn't hard to read since as Jack figured out early on the youngest Winchester wore his heart and his emotions on his sleeve. This time was no different only there was just more emotions pouring off the kid. Sam's fear and concern for his brother were the strongest but Jack could still pick up on the guilt Sam felt for all his recent decisions. He'd understood that Sam felt that if he had made other choices in his life that perhaps his brother could've had another type of life…or at least he wouldn't have gone to Hell for him.

Those emotions were bad in normal situations but in the one they found themselves in now…they would make things even harder to control. Especially if what Jack feared came true. Deciding to keep an eye on Sam until he saw how this played out, he let his power search for his employer and frowned deeply at what he felt from her.

Normally Morgan was closed from him and his kind, a fact that the young woman enjoyed throwing up to them at every available moment. Now though he was feeling every ounce of raw emotion that she was fighting not to allow Sam to see.

Between her fear for Dean Winchester, the worry she was feeling for keeping Sam safe and the back log of buried memories she had from just returning to San Antonio, Morgan's usually closed off emotions were screaming and Jack knew those and her recent injuries were going to make her very susceptible to the Enforcers…or worse.

Gauging Sam and Morgan made Jack concerned about taking them into the Alamo after Dean but what made him stonecold terrified was the fact that he could not get a reading of any kind on the future/alternate version of 'Dean'. Accepting that Zachariah had brought him back to cause trouble, act as a distraction and killing Morgan, the young mystic didn't care for the idea of what else the man could be planning or hiding and that made him a wild card that Jack couldn't afford right then.

"Okay, kiddies," clapping his hands together with more enthusiasm than he felt, he took another look toward the old stone building. "We're on our own until Cas gets back here with a way to break those anti-Angel signs so here's the plan, I'm going to go in the front door to draw all the nasty Enforcers…and hopefully good ole Uncle Zach to me. You three go in the back way I'm going to create for you, find Dean and get him out. Easy snatch and grab."

"Why do I doubt that, MacShayne?" 'Dean' sneered, taking a final check on his weapons before pointing to the Alamo. "Zach's gonna be expecting someone to come. He's made certain Castiel can't enter the building and…"

"It's an easy snatch and grab," Jack repeated more firmly, meeting the other man's gaze fully and making certain to pass on a look he knew warned him to watch his step.

Morgan had stepped away from the others to recall the last time she'd been in San Antonio and the Alamo. She'd been nineteen when rumors began circulating to her that Dean was on his own hunting something nasty at the Alamo while John and Sam, who hadn't left for Stanford yet, hunted elsewhere.

Having just recently gotten back from a case of her own in England with the Queen's Court Raiders, Morgan had still been nursing broken ribs and jet lag when she arrived to see what her friend had gotten into.

Staring at the tower of the stone structure, she fully accepted that had she been at her top form the events of that night might not have happened but she'd been fighting pain, exhaustion and the normal worry for Dean that she normally felt when she learned he was hunting alone.

She could recall the chill in the night air, the dampness of the underground section of the Alamo that most tourists don't get to see and then she only felt the blinding pain in her head as something hard crashed into the back of it. The next memories the young woman had were ones that she had fought bitterly to forget yet now as she struggled to forget the pain and fear she was feeling for Dean it was getting harder to forget that night.

"Bloody hell," she whispered, crossing her arms to ward off feelings that were coming back of that night and also of events in West Virginia. "No, I won't let either of them win. I won't lose him again or let Sammy lose…"

Sharp pain tore up her back and leg as her basic defenses were weakened and images of sharp green eyes hardened by hate but glazed by something she couldn't tell. "Dean…" Morgan wanted to reach out to those eyes but something held her back, jerking when fingers touched her neck. "I'm fine. Let's just get him outta of there before either I throw up or Sam loses it."

"Watch your back, Angel," 'Dean' murmured, knowing what she was experiencing and wishing he could help them more but if he had any chance of saving his own timeline then he had to do what he was set to do.

"Sam, stay with the boss and don't turn your damn back on the future moron," Jack was saying as Sam looked at the oddly inscribed knife Jack had handed him. "Your weapons won't work so use this on any Enforcers you come up against and keep Morgan with you."

Nodding, Sam noticed that Morgan seemed to be more pale and he also caught the way her right hand was shaking subtly. "You sure you don't want to stay here, Morg?" he asked, concern plain but he knew by the sour look she shot him that he'd get a reply much like his older brother often gave him after a suggestion like that. "Yeah, I know. Stupid idea, Sam."

"Yeah, luv, it is," she nodded, eyeing Jack. "Buy us the time to find and get him out and then you have my permission to burn them outta here."

"Kel would probably bitch about the property damage I'd cause with that but I'll make sure to zap as many Angels outta here as possible," the mystic assured her, careful when he laid a hand on hers. "Boss, keep your head and don't let your heart rule this time. If something doesn't feel right then grab Sam and get out."

"I won't leave without Dean," Morgan replied, determined that she wasn't leaving him in Zachariah's hands any longer than he'd been already. "You buy me the time and I'll get him back."

Jack wanted to scowl when a sound seemed to echo from the structure. A scream of pure agony that made both Sam and Morgan freeze and caused the 'Dean' from 2014 to shudder as his own memories returned of another time.

'Damn it, Zachariah,' he thought silently, shocked by how much that sound was affecting him but buried it deep down. "We're running out of time."

"I told you once to watch their backs so this time you had damn well better watch them," Jack growled, waving a hand to send them deep inside the Alamo while he took a deep breath, removed the leather jacket he wore before stepping up to the heavy wooden doors that had once withstood Mexican forces. "Knock-knock boys. Let's play."

"We really need to stop traveling with him," Sam muttered, pretty certain each of those trips was getting worse but he soon decided he had other concerns and that didn't even include the worry he had for his brother but the second Morgan had froze he was alert. "What?"

Jack's teleportation had sent them deep within the Alamo where the strongest feelings of unease were radiating from. The room they found themselves in was small and clearly had been refitted with things out of an ancient torture room or something.

Morgan's face had gone white but something told Sam there was more to it than just what was in the room. "Sammy…I…where's…?"

Noticing that 'Dean' wasn't with them had Sam's alarms going up but when Morgan neared the iron cross-like device with chains and straps, he lunged to stop her. Taking a look around, his gaze saw the large amounts of blood on the device as well as on the floor but it was when he noticed the blood covered amulet laying in a bowl of bloody instruments that he began to grow cold.

"Morg, we need to find the other 'Dean' cause this doesn't feel right," he stared around the room and was surprised that this room wasn't guarded or that Dean wasn't here. "Morgan?"

Hearing Sam fully, Morgan's attention was locked on the images in the room. Whether the bald Angel knew that this was the very room that John Winchester had set her up to be lured into or not, she was dealing with those images on top of the more recent, more vicious events this room had seen.

Seeing and hearing every scream, the act of violence and so much more that Dean Winchester had experienced in this room, she was struggling to breath when a step made her inner vision snap back to the present a second before she felt the danger.

"Sam!" screaming, Morgan whirled only to slip in a pool of blood as something sharp struck her neck to blur her vision. "No…Sam…get out…it's…not him…"

Turning at his friend's cry, Sam's gaze first saw Morgan fall then he saw the fat, bald Angel holding an odd shaped weapon that must have fired the needle that she was trying to pull from her neck. "Damn! Morgan, hang on! I'm…" he had taken a step toward her when a strong hand, with a grip that he would always recognize, grabbed his shoulder to pull him back and he felt the intense burning pain in his upper back as a knife went in but it was the voice in his ear that was worse for him. Because this wasn't the voice of anyone but his brother.

"Hey, Sammy, Zachariah and I've been waiting for you…little brother."

**TBC**

**A/N: **I want to apologize for how long this chapter took. Real life and some illnesses kept me distracted. CH 9 will be coming soon and I promise it won't be nearly as long.

Sam and Morgan seem to have serious issues. Is Sam hearing what he thinks? Can they save Dean and themselves and just where is the Dean from 2014? All good questions so come back for CH 9.


	9. Chapter 9

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Nine**

"Hey, Sammy, Zachariah and I've been waiting for you…little brother."

Dropping to the floor of the room with a short blade still stuck in his shoulder, Sam grunted in pain as he rolled to see what he prayed he wouldn't. "Dean…why…what the hell have you done to my brother?" he aimed this toward the smirking senior Angel who stood nearby.

"I just finally showed him what a waste of time it was believing in you, Sam," Zachariah replied calmly, looking between the brothers and appearing quite pleased. "Oh, it took some doing. A lot of pain, on his part, plenty of drugs that I haven't had to use since the time of Judas and of course the tactical use of his own memories and Dean finally began to lean toward my way of thinking. Of course, he still hasn't said that one little word yet but he will…after I have some fun with you and his whore."

Jerking his eyes away from the near black ones of his older brother to find where Morgan Harrison was laying on the floor a few feet away, Sam's fear went from having to face whatever was done to Dean to how white their friend had become after being hit with whatever was in that needle. "What…what did you give her?"

Well, since I couldn't count on Dean's alternate counterpart doing his job in this little endeavor I simply injected your little friend with an interesting mix of drugs. When it's given in combination of the one she was given by him will have an interesting effect," Zachariah smiled, kneeling down beside the young woman to remove the needle like object from her neck while deliberately stroking a hand across her cheek to cup her chin in his hand. "We've been in this position before, haven't we my dear? Tut-tut, Sam…with that knife in your shoulder you won't be much help to her plus I believe Dean wants to have words with you."

"You don't…touch her again, you fat…arggghh!" Sam couldn't bury the scream that came as a foot kicked his stabbed shoulder and caused the knife to go in further. "Dean, stop. You…don't want to do this…" he stopped as a cold thought began dawning on him. "You know who I am?"

"Oh, I know you, Sam," Dean acknowledged, fingers of both hands clenching into fists as the raw wounds that still showed on his bare arms and chest flexed along with the muscles in his arms as he bent to yank his brother up. "I know that you and that thing inside you will never hurt me or her or anyone again," he growled, seeming oblivious to the sneering Angels or Morgan, whose ability to remain conscious was growing weaker as she watched helplessly as her friend jerked the blade out with a sickening sound before slamming his fist into Sam's head. "Damn freak sucking on demon blood. I don't give a crap if you and Dad are ashamed of me! I sacrificed everything for you and you side with the damn Devil! I told you I'd fight back & get even for every scar and welt you left and now…"

Weakened by the wound in his shoulder and still feeling the effects of being tossed around by the witch in Massachusetts and the Enforcers at Chuck's house, Sam was unable to withstand the brutal physical assault of his older brother even though he knew this wasn't Dean talking. That it was whatever Zachariah had shot him up with that was making him say and see whatever it was, a small part of Sam, the part that still felt guilty and ashamed, couldn't help but shrink at every word hurled at him.

"Dean, listen to me," he tried to put up his good arm to block a hard fist but forgot that while Dean had taught him how to fight his brother hadn't taught him all his tricks and swallowed blood when his face was slammed into the metal restraining device. "You…you have to fight this. You have to fight…them," Sam hated to react but he knew that his brother was lethal in a fight and he was hoping to get through to the part of Dean that might still be able to hear him. "This isn't you. The damn angels they did this, Dean. They…"

The words cut off as a lead pipe was brought down across the back of his neck, knocking him back to his hands and knees even as he heard a weak cry of pain, noticing barely that his brother's attention was now drawn across the room. "No…Dean, don't. You don't want to hurt her…you can't…Dean!"

"Dean can only hear what I want him to right now, Sam," Zachariah explained, motioning to two overly muscled suit wearing enforcers to go jerk the younger hunter to his feet. "He sees only what I need him to and between his memories of Hell, his memories of his childhood and other interesting things and of course images that I created for him…well he's not seeing you or the little witch as friends right now. I wouldn't worry about her if I were you, son because my friends are going to make an example of you while Dean has his fun and I deal with another problem." he declared, snapping his fingers in order to his minions. "Lock the boy in the cell & deliver my message for being such a pain in my ass…though it won't be anything like the other times we had this meeting, Sam."

Feeling himself pulled to his feet, Sam's head and back were throbbing in agony but he still tried to fight. Twisting in the unbreakable grip of the Enforcers, he tried to use a portion of the powers that he swore he wouldn't use again but the blows to his head recently and this time made that impossible. "We're not alone, Zachariah!" he snapped, grunting as a solid fist landed in his gut and he felt agony sear. "You're problem's with me and Dean…not Morgan!"

"My problem is with anything that can stop you or your brainless brother from saying yes!" the higher ranking Angel snapped, rage clear on his face as he easily lifted Morgan by the front of her jacket to throw her down to the bloody cement near Dean's currently drugged out feet. "She's more dangerous to me than anything else and if you're expecting either that idiot from the future I brought into this or my nephew to help you I'm afraid you're in a rude shock.

"While Castiel's trying to find a way through the anti-Angel spells I had put on this hovel, Jack will find himself facing not only some of my best men but also someone he isn't expecting," Zachariah smiled thinly as the boy's face tightened as this dawned on him. "Your other would-be savior didn't follow directions close enough and while I was perfectly willing to allow him play out this deceitful charade of luring you here and killing you both the second your guard was down I think I'll do that for him and send him back to the state he was in when I resurrected the jackass. After I make him witness everything that really happened the night his wife died." he put in, clapping his hands happily. "Take him!"

A brief burst of fear tickled in since Sam knew what the Enforcers were capable of but his main panic came from what else could happen that he couldn't stop. "Dean! Fight this, damn it. You fought Hell and it didn't beat you! That's Morgan and…Dean, listen to her and…"

"You think he survived Hell?" Zachariah laughed in amusement as he dropped the silver heart and chain he'd pulled from Morgan's jacket into the same bloody bowl as Dean's amulet laid in before facing Sam. "Dean didn't survive Hell, Sam. He gave into Hell, he gave in to Alastair…for you…but then you never knew that did you?" he teased, pleased when the boy's face turned ashen. "Oh, the tales I could tell you about the reasons your precious hero finally gave in after three months of fighting but why should I when so many others could? Not that you'll be in much shape to care or not that it'll matter once Dean says yes to Michael."

"Zachariah! You do your worst but I swear I will find a way to kill you if you touch Morgan and for what you've done to my brother!" Sam shouted, screaming as an Enforcer slammed a short stick against his injured shoulder as they dragged him out.

"For someone so intent of being evil he does seem to have a big mouth today," Zachariah mused, as he walked up to Dean and jerked his head up to examine his eyes, pleased to see that they were still glassy and discolored. "You're fighting inside, aren't you boy?" he sneered, sure of this just as he was sure that he'd won this battle of wills. "That little piece of a soul that survived Hell, that makes you such a pain in my ass is still trying to fight but you can't. All you can do is listen to the voices in your head that I put there and…"

A searing pain sliced up the arrogant Angel's lower calf, forcing him to grunt in pain even though he was aware that had this attack came at any other time the pain and the injury would have been far worse. Now though it only served to piss him off more. "You may not have the pure power range yet as your alternate older self but you are by far more stubborn in some cases than she was because considering what I know you're reliving mentally and that fact that your limbs should be like lead now, you should not have been able to make a move against me. What does it take to make you freaks bow to your betters?"

"More…than you'll ever have, you bald power hungry jerk," silently surprised that she was even able to fight back against the new drug and it's effect, Morgan could only assume that it was Sam's pain now and the utter blackness she was still able to feel from Dean that allowed her this brief moment of lucidity. A brief moment to shakily draw her knife, a blade that could hurt both Angel and Demon, to try to break some of the control the Angel had on Dean.

"You got the bloody drop on me in New Orleans, Zachariah," she spat, barely avoiding a kick to already hurt ribs as she rolled on instinct to come up in a crouch with the blade held ready but was already having difficulty in keeping her vision clear to watch both the furious Angel and Dean. "Your witch ruse did the same in West Virginia and you used that alternate version of Dean to nail me in Massachusetts but…it ain't happening again and you are undoing whatever you did to him."

Chuckling, Zachariah waved a hand to move a piece of equipment across the room at a violent speed but nearly snarled when the young woman was able to not only block it from striking her but give it a slight push back. "You're only delaying the inevitable, girl," he mocked, moving something to make a noise and quickly changing tactics when Morgan's automatic defenses went to defend from one direction. "You can stall and fight this for as long as you want but I know your vision's failing you and you can barely stand so how much longer do you think you can fight this?"

Swearing she was going to at least free Dean from the Angel's control, Morgan bit her lip while struggling to ignore the pain building from the reinforced drugs and their effects. She was just about to slash the knife at what she believed was Zachariah's silhouette when her arm seared with pain and the Enochian carved blade clattered to the stone floor of the tiny room. "Bloody hell."

"Well, you won't be needing this," stepping down firmly on the blade, Zachariah nodded to himself as he was assured the drug effects would now keep his foe docile long enough to have others handle her. "It really would have been better for you if that moron from the future had used both vials before like he was supposed to. It certainly would have been less painful for you," he remarked easily, reaching down to grip her by the throat. "Now…now we're going to finish what we started in that filthy hovel. You recall the feel of the knives as my men ripped into your flesh, whore? That's nothing to what you'll feel now.

"Now, you'll feel what it's like to have a master of the torture room practice his art on all that soft skin that I'm certain Dean's seen plenty of," the Angel finished in a cold voice, peering around the room as if looking for something in particular while dragging her to her feet.

Struggling weakly, Morgan's right arm was limp so she attempted to break the hold on her throat with her left. "Try your…best," she hissed, feeling her vision fade to gray as fingers cut off her air. "Your suited… goons couldn't kill me…before so you won't…"

"Oh, but it won't be my associates who will be doing the cutting and burning this time, little witch," Zachariah told her with a smile that any who knew him meant trouble. "No, it'll be your very own precious hero that will be doing this for me…isn't that right boy?"

It was several seconds before those words registered to her but it wasn't until the Angel gave her a rough shove into the waiting grip of her soon to be would be torturer that Morgan felt both sick and nearly broken as the hands that held her tightly were recognized as hands that had also held her gently.

"Dean," the whisper was soft both because of the shock she'd been slipping into and sick fear of what she was managing to pick up through a link that felt dull and dark to her now. "Don't…Dean, please. You can fight them…you've always fought…ah!"

The cry of pain came when she was forced back onto the already bloody metal cross-like frame. The feel of the leather straps restraining her brought back other memories and images but what brought the terror to the surface other than knowing this was the man she loved and had loved since they'd both been young was when the heavy leather gag-like device that didn't just gag her but also forced her head to remain still.

"Dean fought far longer than I thought he could and I will admit when he ruined my plan to draw you in by using that annoying link you share I might have forced the issue a little harder than I needed to," Zachariah mused while walking around the device, reaching over to yank the leather strap across her chest tighter. "He fought all the physical torture though as you can…well you can't see, but you can imagine I left him those scars for the time being. I vowed to break to him though and even though it was only with the drugs that I did it was so easy once I brought into play his two biggest weaknesses."

The Angel smiled as he recognized the smell of fear, enjoying this far more than he even did the acts in Birkstown, West Virginia. "The hard headed mud monkey still fought but after a few brutal hours of being tortured by my men but mentally seeing and hearing the damning words of his own precious Father and those of the little brother he cared for and sacrificed for, well let's just say Dean broke rather expressively. However, it was when he saw what your powers truly were, how evil they were and how you allowed Sam to fall down the dark road and that you were just using him that the poor boy broke," chuckling, Zachariah laid a hand on Morgan's bare stomach after rough hands had cut the shirt off. He was pleased when she strained against the straps as he burned a hand size mark into her skin, the ragged scream muffled. "We cut, burned and whittled away what little self-confidence he had left. All he sees now is that he's back in Hell under Alistair's thumb and you…" pausing to smile upon noticing the young hunter had picked up a long, thin bloody blade. "You are going to be his next plaything."

With his mind a haze of white noise, burning images of scarred, ripped bodies and the sounds of Hell echoing in his ears, Dean Winchester could no longer fight the Angels or their attacks as he only saw what Zachariah planted in his memory and right then that was simply a threat.

A small part, small enough that it only seemed like an echo to him, knew something about this was wrong but the pain in his body and mind were too great to allow him the chance to think on it when a hard hand gripped his hair to jerk it up.

"She's just another body on a rack, Dean," the chilling voice sounded in his ears, making his blood run colder than even Alistair could. "She's a witch who used you and hurt your precious Sammy. The only way to save him now is to punish her. You're good at punishing, aren't you? You can make this little witch scream while you show exactly what made you Alistair's best pupil, can't you?" it asked almost mockingly, grasping his chin roughly. "You gave up in Hell for your brother, boy. She could've stopped it all but she allowed your agony just as she allowed your brother to be seduced by that demon bitch."

Jerking back, his eyes seemed to clear just enough to see Zachariah's sneering expression but agony seared as a sharp jab in his neck took away the urge to struggle and his memories recalled his Father's words as he ripped at him with the very knife in his hand. A hand that seemed to tremble as he brought it near the face of his latest victim but the urge to fight that came briefly was beaten back by images of fire, pain, and torments that he'd rather not recall. "I can't save Sammy but I can make those who hurt us pay," he gritted, touching soft skin with the tip of the blade and feeling something break at the muffled cry as he began to slice, oblivious to the tears that he shed and deaf to the choked and muted screams and pleas that came.

"He sees you as just another body but before you die I plan on releasing enough of Dean's mind so that he understands what happened and what he did," Zachariah bragged, hearing something crash from elsewhere in the ancient building but paused to stroke a casual hand down Morgan's bare arm; leaving a thin burn trail as he went. "Make her last, boy. Shallow cuts but be sure to carve what I told you," he ordered firmly, eyeing two suited Enforcers who stood near by. "I need to check on the other problems. Stay here and make sure the Michael Sword does what he's been told and if the witch gets out of hand kill her."

Looking back, he smiled at his handiwork and chose to ignore the way the elder Winchester's hand trembled as it sliced on the friend he didn't know right then. "Now, to see to my other problems."

**Elsewhere in the Alamo:**

"Well, this sucks," 'Dean' groused after vowing to slap that damn mystic in the head when he realized he hadn't landed anywhere near Sam and Morgan. "Yeah, this just spells set-up."

Picking himself up, he was just reaching down for his weapon when his sixth sense for danger warned him of the threat even before he saw the black suited Enforcer swinging the knife.

"_Sonuvabitch_!" he snarled, ignoring the submachine for the moment in favor of avoiding the strike aimed at his back. "You jackasses aren't anymore stealthy here than you were in my time," 'Dean' snapped, spinning easily to kick out at a leg of the Enforcer with the blade while looking for the other one that he knew had to be around. "Your boss brings me back, tosses me into a time that's not my own to do something that he knew I wouldn't normally only to try to kill me now? Damn, I forgot what a backstabbing, no pun dude, bastard Zach was."

"You should have listened to your orders," the Enforcer replied, not showing any pain or emotion at the kick to his leg as he managed to grab onto 'Dean's' fist to use his own momentum to hurl him across the room and into the hard bricks of a far wall. "Zachariah brought you back for a purpose, boy. You failed in that mission."

Grunting as he hit hard and feeling the warmth of blood trickling from his scalp, 'Dean' muttered a few choice oaths while reaching under his military jacket to pull what he kept sheathed at the small of this back. "Zach brought me back and lied to me about the reason. He lied because he knew that I'd never hurt any version of my wife," he snapped, pushing up carefully to one knee. "I made a deal with Sam and I would've handled him in this time but noooo, Zach had to jump the gun but let me tell you one thing using me to get to Sam or even Morgan is one thing but what he did to Dean…no, I won't let that happen. I won't let him do to him what he did to me."

"You won't have a say since you'll be dead. Rotting back in the ground where Zachariah found you," the Enforcer sneered, reaching down to yank the former hunter from the future to his feet for a killing blow when 'Dean's' hand shot up to stab the blade he'd pulled from under his jacket into the Angel Enforcer's chest which resulted in a bright light flashing before it fell dead.

"Maybe, but not until I've fixed this…ARGH!" the unexpected agony searing from the center of his back up to his neck took 'Dean' off guard as he fell to see the second Enforcer standing there. However, it was Zachariah who lowered the curved handled blade that had ripped a jagged edge gash in his back of which blood now poured freely. "You…"

Clucking his tongue, Zachariah handed the blade back to his Enforcer before stepping over to kneel down in front of the injured man. "Dean, Dean, Dean…did you really think this would work in your favor?" he chided, grabbing a handful of hair to pull it up to meet pained but hateful eyes. "Just like in your own time, you were a useful tool to another end once you failed to meet your original purpose."

"Pissed…you off cause I said…no, you fat bastard," 'Dean' gritted, fighting the pain while silently cursing his own stupidity. He'd allowed himself to be used to get the kids involved in this mess and now he'd die, unable to save any of them. "You…can do your worst…but Dean…will never say…yes and he…won't hurt…" a sound that tore through his soul seemed to echo in the underground chambers. "Damn you."

"These drugs are much more advanced and devious than what was used on you," the bald Angel told him, reaching down to root around in an inside jacket pocket as the Enforcer restrained the already dying man when he went to fight back. "Dean fought but in the end it was his real weaknesses, much like it had been yours, that forced him to give in," he sneered, looking down at the contents of the small velvet bag he'd pulled from 'Dean's' jacket before dropping them on the ground. "He gave in to protect them without even realizing that by doing so he was pretty much condemning the whore to a fate much worse than yours suffered but then you were broke free before I could get you to do what this boy's doing now."

Listening to the echoes, 'Dean' gritted his teeth against pain and tried to reach for the knife that had fallen when he'd been struck only to have a heavy foot step on his wrist. "My wife and…my brother saved me. That's why you wanted them outta…the picture here cause Dean…would always fight…for them."

"That's true and that's why Dean won't even know what he's done until it's too late and I can either let him destroy himself with guilt over the girl or just wipe his mind and let him believe Sam did it which will turn them truly on one another," Zachariah mused, shaking his head wryly. "Such decisions but either way, he will accept Michael, the witch won't be able to save either of them and Sam…well, I suppose without either his brother or his friend to protect him, he'll give in to Lucifer…just like your precious little brother did."

Pain, shock, blood loss was causing the hardened future version of Dean Winchester to lapse in and out of consciousness until something the Angel said caught his attention. "Come again?" he forced himself to focus on the sneering man. "You killed…my wife…what the hell…do you know about Sammy?"

"Oh, I know why Sam, after so many years of fighting it, finally gave in to Lucifer that night in Detroit," Zachariah smiled, dusting his suit pants off as he stood to give one final look down. "You honestly believed that after everything, the fights, the mistrust, that he hated you for kicking him to the curb when in the end…he gave in for you and your precious little family, Dean," he stated coldly, sneering at the blank expression on the injured man's face. "Don't worry. You'll be dead…again so you won't have to worry about delivering them into my hands. Enjoy your last moments, boy while I go deal with one final little upstart before I finish delivering the Michael Sword to his new owner."

The loss of blood was making him tired, too tired to be concerned with why the agony in his back was now only a dull ache when he tried to twist to see the bragging Angel walking away. "Zachariah!" he yelled, surprised that despite the wound he had that his voice could still sound so hard. "You hurt…any of them, but especially that girl, and I swear…you'll regret it if it's the last thing I do. I will kill you."

"You're a dead man from a future that should've been destroyed long ago, boy," Zachariah laughed without looking back. "My only regret is that I've only had a small time with her here…your wife was more interesting to play with but then there were things that she and Sam never told you, much like here. Let him choke on his own blood while I see how my nephew is faring."

The Enforcer nodded as he stood by to watch passively while 'Dean' struggled to breathe as the blood began to fill his lungs. Fingers flexing in reflex, he felt them close on something on the floor and without looking he knew what he instinctively clenched his fist around.

The smaller metal band seemed to grow warm in his hand as he allowed his dimming thoughts to think back to the day he placed this ring on his version of Morgan's hand when they were married. The images flowed back to a time when he believed he could give both the love of his life and his little brother safety. A time before he failed them both and his life died.

"You only failed when you gave up on yourself, hotshot."

**The front of the Alamo:**

Staring at the heavy front double gates of the ancient Texas landmark, Jack MacShayne cocked his head as if listening for something before scowling. "I will so burn that fat SOB when I lock onto him this time," he growled, rolling his eyes to the sky. "Castiel better get his butt back here too since I can only hold these guys for so long with my powers the way they are now."

Considering the best way to enter the structure to cause the least amount of damage, since he knew his mercenary friend would bitch about paying for serious damages, but also cause the most amount of distraction, the black haired mystic finally shrugged. "Hell with it," he muttered, waving a hand to create a strong wave of energy to build before letting it shoot out to strike the gates with a massive thundering crash of sound and power.

"Knock knock, Avon calling," he called, stepping into the structure and immediately caught the hand of an Enforcer slashing a shiny Angel killing blade at him. "Dude, you're gonna hurt yourself with this thing one of these days," he chided, twisting hard until he heard the satisfying sound of bone breaking and then caught the blade in order to hurl it into the throat of an oncoming Enforcer. "I really hate you guys."

Reluctantly having to deal with his Father's side of the family was one thing for Jack but he'd always hated dealing with his Mother's. The direct family was bad enough but the Enforcers were a huge pain in the ass, especially when he didn't have full power and he hated those damn blades.

"Someone really should melt all those things down one day," he groused sourly to himself, ducking a fist to the head while blasting another attacker out of the room with a small portion of power just as pain shot across his upper arm when a blade sliced through his jacket. "That hurt."

While not lethal to him, the blades did tend to do more serious damage to him than normal mortal blades and while weakened during the Apocalypse, the small cut wouldn't make this distraction duty any easier…not that Jack planned on letting the Enforcers know this. "Zach must be really over confident if he thinks you guys can take me out of seriously keep me from getting to the Winchesters," he snorted, using his good hand to begin to create another ball of power to take out several Angel attackers at once.

He was preparing to throw it when he was suddenly slammed from behind with a force that took him across the main entrance and through a wall.

"Actually, Jack…that task would be mine."

Furious at himself for being snuck up on from behind, Jack took the fall on his already injured arm but still managed to roll up to his feet in a long ago learned combat stance. That allowed him to throw up a shield to block the next wave of energy that he knew would be coming as soon as he recognized the voice. "Hey, Stefan," he greeted tiredly, blue eyes going dark as he raised his powers to full since he was no longer facing mere Enforcers. "Since when do you of all people work on the side of Angels? That's kind of an oxymoron, ain't it, little brother?"

Like most of his family, Stefan MacShayne shared the dark good looks that came from his father's side but unlike Jack, the power that shined from his eyes told that he'd crossed much darker paths recently and wasn't afraid to use those powers to gain what he wanted.

"Not in the long and grand scheme of things, Jack," he shrugged, stepping through the hole in the wall with an easy grin while a mere wave of his hand destroyed a case of souvenirs. "Sure it may seem strange that I agreed to work with our Uncle. Once he explained that not only would I get to kill you but also perhaps gain enough power to supplant our Father then I was all for helping him keep you from saving these pesky mortals…including the Mistress of Shadow and Light, who I've been assured will die most painfully."

"Over my dead body, brat," Jack growled, kicking himself and Castiel, not to mention a certain so-called Prophet that gave him really weird vibes, for not seeing this possibility. "You're as cocky and arrogant as Zachariah, Stefan but I'm about three hundred years older than you so that means your power won't come close to…shit!"

Diving for cover behind a piece of the shattered stone wall, Jack let out a silent shout that he only hoped his brother Ethan would hear. "You get delusions of grandeur while in exile?" he snapped, flexing the arm that had been cut in the hopes to get full use back. "Siding with an Angel to overthrow Dad? Zach will burn you as soon as he gets what he wants, stupid."

"Perhaps, but he really doesn't care about us except that you're in his face about things that don't concern us really," the younger mystic shrugged, blasting the stone easily and dodging the weaker return of his brother. "We really don't have to be involved in this battle between out Uncles, Jack. Let the mortals destroy themselves and after Michael or Lucifer have their war we can pick up the pieces."

"Damn and I thought Bree was the self-centered bitch in the family," Jack muttered, hearing the scream from deep within the building and swearing under his breath.

Seeing that the Enforcers were staying back told Jack that they'd been ordered to steer clear of this fight. That told him that Zachariah planned this from the damn start and he let Morgan and Sam walk into a trap. Now he couldn't get to them because he was stuck dealing with his upstart little brother all because the kid obviously wasn't having the same power issues that Jack was.

"Stefan, once I wipe this floor with you and I rip Zachariah a new one I will finish with you after I save my friend and those wacky Winchesters she stuck me with," he growled, flexing his fingers before throwing a surprising burst of red power out to take the other mystic off guard, slamming him back. "You thought you could nail me from behind, keep me from protecting my charges all so you can expand your ego? I think before you grew gills at the age of three you inhaled too much water that time Eth and I tried to deal with you because you're nuts, kid."

"No, I just know what distracts you, Jack," Stefan sneered, eyes flitting to a spot just behind his older brother. "Mortals make you weak and weakness will kill you."

The snide comment coming from anyone else would have been a simple remark but Jack knew his brother and knew the threats that were possible, especially with what they faced. "Son of a bitch," he snarled, dropping his hand to whirl but wasn't fast enough to avoid the white hot hand that was suddenly shoved from his back through to his chest.

"Now, what were you saying about the next time I messed with the Winchesters, Jackson?" Zachariah's arrogant voice sneered into his ear a moment before he felt a hand crunch down on his heart and agony ensued.

**TBC**

**A/N: **I know, I know you guys probably hate my chapter endings by now but I promise all will be connected…assuming Zachariah really doesn't get his way. Will everyone make it out of Chapter 10 in one piece? Can Dean's mind be salvaged after what it's endured? Is this The End once again for our 'Dean' from 2014? Plus what will happen to Sam and Morgan? All good questions. Stay tuned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mirror Images**

**A/N: Warning: **This chapter is a bit intense in some parts. Nothing too bad but I figured it best to warn first.

**Chapter Ten**

"You know, ever since your Mother fell from Grace so long ago in favor of whoring herself to your Father and began siring her ungodly brethren of half-breeds I wondered what it would be like to kill one of you brats. Now I have my chance," Zachariah declared as he tightened the fist that held his nephews' heart from inside his chest.

The unexpected attack had taken him off guard to the point where Jack MacShayne was powerless against the agony searing from inside his chest. He could still hear screams from inside the building but was also powerless to help those he had sworn to protect.

"No one is coming to rescue you or the mortals this time, Jack," Stefan goaded his older brother, stepping close enough for an open handed slap that was meant more to humiliate than hurt since he knew his brother couldn't react. "Ethan is sort of busy since Uncle Zach decided to send some of his more advanced Enforcers to pay his family a visit and baby brother wouldn't stand a chance with me."

Despite his age and power, having a hand stopping his heart and therefore blood flow can ever hurt him. Jack felt things begin to gray over and his legs buckle a second before the side room of the Alamo he'd been crashed into filled with a bright white light that caused screams to be heard as Enforcers were taken down by a force rare to be seen by most. However, it wasn't the bright light, or the screams that shook the mystic but the sound of precise spiked heels clicking over the stone floor only to come to a stop just inside the door.

Too distracted by his seeming victory, Zachariah wasn't paying attention as his help dropped to the floor in writhing agony or by the look of abject terror that came over Stefan's aristocratic face.

"Zachariah, get your damn hands off my son," an almost melodic voice spoke from the door but it was tinged with only an anger that a mother could have.

Eyes jerking up from where he was watching Jack's face go white, the bald and pudgy Angel seemed shocked at the sight of the petite looking woman with long white blond hair that flowed down the back of her spotless white pantsuit. "Amelia."

"One more time, remove your hand from my son," the woman ordered firmly, shifting deep blue eyes to the now shocked form of her other son. "Stefan, I suggest if I were you that you return to the rock you hide under because your Father is not impressed with how you choose your allies."

Letting his hand slide out easily, Zachariah's eyes remain on his former sister while Jack slumped to the floor. "Why are you here, Amelia?" he demanded, coughing as he tried to regain his composure with a sneer. "You lost any ability you had to hurt me when you lost your Grace so how…" he stopped when his throat seemed to close at her sweet smile.

Having fallen years ago, Amelia MacShayne had never questioned her choice even though she often doubted the choices of her children. She had long since sworn to avoid anything that would involve her family and certain children since not all of them had chosen paths approved of, Jack being one of those, but today she had chosen to step in and also to show the ace she still held.

"Jonathan and I are willing to allow our children to make their own choices. So if Jack and Devan choose to side with the young witch and her friends then so be it," she began in a lilting voice that still carried an accent but it hardened as her eyes changed while stepping forward to confront the Angel, dropping something to Jack as she passed. "However, when someone as egocentric and power hungry decides to send those bulked-up bastards after my grandchildren then I step in. Oh, and I haven't been without all my former ability, Zachariah. I just gave it to Jack."

"What?" whirling to look, his face blanched when he caught site of the tiny Angel medallion clenched in his nephew's fist. "No, you can't have that. You lost it when you fell…"

"Silly, silly Zachariah," she chided easily, cocking her head much like Jack was prone to do. "The Winchesters were set up for years to come to this point in the lives of these two boys, so what makes you think that it wasn't in His plan to also have others involved to aid these boys from your twisted hand?" she asked. "Such as my sons."

Jack held up the medallion even as his eyes shifted to a pure midnight color a second before power flew from his fist to blast out at Zachariah with a range that he hadn't been able to reach since Lucifer released the Horsemen. "You got the jump on me and you think I'll let you hurt the boss and the Winchesters," he gritted, still feeling the effects of the attack but knowing he was running out of time. "You can try to give Michael his vessel but I swear to you that if I can't undo what you've done, it won't be God who judges you at the end…but me! Now get the hell out of my face!"

The ball of energy seemed increased due to the medallion he held that still carried a small portion of Heavenly power and Zachariah backed away from the blast that could have destroyed him. "You haven't saved them, boy!" he snapped. "Dean's mind…you'll never bring it back. You will never heal him this time. His mind and body are good for only one thing now and your other allies…Lucifer will claim Sam just as Michael will claim Dean because the whore will die under Dean's blade and their only other hope is dead."

Vanishing out after that sneering threat, the sounds of screams could still be heard as it was clear that while Zachariah had left, he had also left the rest of his enforcers to finish his dirty work. Also gone was the younger mystic who had taken this distraction as his cue to leave.

"I…hate them," Jack swore bitterly, pulling himself to his feet while jerking his jacket off to give him more freedom to move but he fell against a wall as he struggled to regain his breath and to get his heart beating normally again. "Where the hell is Ethan?"

"Your brother will be here as soon as he secures his own house and family," Amelia assured him, looking as if she wanted to reach out but knowing that this son would never accept such a touch. "Zachariah and his allies are, for some reason, afraid of your involvement."

Taking a deep breath, Jack was finally able to see clearly even if he still felt like crap but knew he needed to move if he had a hope of salvaging this mess. "They're afraid because my boss can alter the destinies of your so-called brothers vessels and they want her outta the damn picture," he complained, choosing to ignore the burning cut as he held out the medallion to his mother. "I'd complain about you sticking your nose in my business except I didn't relish having my heart yanked outta my chest…so…thank you."

"I'm still your Mother, Jack and I always did enjoy taking Zachariah down a peg," she returned, smoothing a hand down the white jacket before eyeing the medallion that was held out to her. "Keep it. You or your little friends may need it more than I will."

Debating on that, Jack pocketed it while thinking. "I'm guessing it was the whole falling from grace or almost fully from Grace that allowed you to come in here past the anti-Angel crap so how about breaking the rest since I need Castiel and I need him now."

"The mortals are in danger, Jack," Amelia told him, moving a hand and before the younger man could ask a disgruntled Castiel was staring between them in confusion. "Michael's vessel…his mind is damaged and without Zachariah here, his wounds will begin to overtake him. The child will die and while Lucifer will protect the younger boy, the abnormal one your Uncle involved is passing into shadow," pausing as she began to mist away, she smiled. "Hello, Castiel."

"No, I do not want to explain why my mother was here," Jack cut the Angel off before he could ask, grabbing a trench coated sleeve. "I need you to help me with the Enforcers until I get everything back up to speed. We need to act fast and that means getting to the Winchesters," he told him, trying to lock on to the closest energy that could tell him what was going on and swearing under his breath in a dead language a second before he dropped to his knees. "Shit, Zach did too much damage. I need to heal or I'll fall on my face the first time I try to zap something."

Castiel looked at the young mystic closely and could see what had happened. "Ethan…"

"Will be here," Jack held out the medallion of his mother's, feeling things begin to gray out again. "Get to Sam. I'm hoping he can handle Dean until either my brother or I get to them."

Understanding the only way for his nephew to heal from a serious wound was to fall into a self-induced sleep, the Angel could only nod as he reached for the medallion with too many questions and not enough answers. "What about the future 'Dean'?"

"I see it. Zach stabbed him," Jack could also see impending death but he wasn't sure whose. "We need Sam free of those Enforcers because you can't free Morgan and handle Dean without Sam. Go, Cas…I'll be there."

"I'll do my…best," Castiel was gone without further question but many doubts as Jack's eyes closed while picking up dark energies from below that he recognized as death.

**Elsewhere:**

"You only failed when you gave up on yourself, hotshot."

Having experienced a lot of things in his life, much of which differed from the life of this Dean Winchester; the 'Dean' from 2014 was halfway certain dying twice and now hearing a voice he never thought he would again was the weirdest.

"What? Getting yourself killed only to be brought back by a bloody self-serving Angel who sent you back to a time that isn't yours and getting stabbed isn't weird but hearing me freaks you out? Guess it's been awhile."

Taking a shaky breath that he was surprised didn't hurt, 'Dean' opened his eyes and felt it catch as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Too long…Angel," he heard the gruffness in his voice but knew, for the first time in years, it was from the emotions that were threatening to come as he sat up to lock eyes with the gentle blue ones of his wife.

Glancing around, 'Dean' knew he should still be seeing either the coldness of the 2009 Alamo where he was bleeding out or at the very least some other place since he knew there was no way that blowhard Zachariah would grant him peace.

The field of wildflowers surprised him since his locked down memories did recall this field, he recalled it both as the destroyed site of where he'd returned from Hell. He also knew it as it looked now after it was turned to a place of peace and love; but what nearly brought him to his knees was who was sitting on the hood of the pristine looking Impala.

"Morgan," he whispered, easing up to find the stab wound was now nothing was a long scratch on his back but then his attention went back to the car as he stood up finally to approach slowly, caution high. "Am I dead again or is this just another way for Zach to torture me?" 'Dean' asked, letting his gaze move slowly but the very soft smile that he saw brought back memories of a day in this field.

Sitting on the Impala's hood, dressed in the ankle length thin spring like dress that she had worn on the day of their wedding Morgan Harrison Winchester lifted a hand to stroke it over his face with a tenderness that hurt nearly as much as the wound he'd just received. "It's…complicated what you are, luv," she admitted with an accent that was slightly more pronounced than her younger version.

The young woman whose touch felt as real to him now as it had once appeared here at about the age she was when they married. 'Dean' could still see the leftover shadows in her eyes but the hope for a bright future was also there. It was the hope that he could barely recall having these days.

"Do you remember this place, Dean?" she asked, sliding over so he could sit beside her while she gazed over the field until they came to stop on a certain spot. "Do you remember the day the flowers grew again in this field?"

He knew the day she meant. It had never taken much to bring back that memory, especially when all his memories of her had been brought back to the surface by the simple presence of an innocent girl looking to save her friends.

"Yeah, it's where I popped up after Cas pulled me from the Pit," he replied with a shrug, wincing when a hand slapped him hard in the back of the head. "Ow."

"You know what I meant," she narrowed a look at his scowl but slipped off the hood to step away from him before turning in easy circles much like he had seen her do that day. "Or have you changed so much, grown so hard that you won't let yourself remember?"

Knowing this was more than likely another Angel trick, 'Dean' couldn't help feel some of the tension ease as he watched the young woman he had grown up loving twirl with a laugh that had always made him smile.

Looking around the field, he did recall the day she meant. It had been a normal day for them though he couldn't recall what they'd been in the area hunting when for some reason he had felt the urge to return to the ruined spot that he'd returned from Hell in.

'Dean' knew his young wife wasn't thrilled with the prospect since she was still scared for him to think of those days but she had held his hand and listened to him ramble until finally the emotions he'd buried surfaced.

Feeling the warmth of her hand touch his, 'Dean' let his fingers close on instinct while drawing her against him for just a chance to hold her again even if it wasn't real. "Yeah, I remember, Angel," he murmured, looking down when he felt her snuggle further into his arms which as he remembered was something his Morgan had always done. "You told me it wasn't the lands fault it was hurt and it wasn't mine but that we could help it heal," he sighed, feeling his eyes burn when the scent of her hair made him ache with loss. "The fields grew with wild flowers…the day I made love to you here."

"You've stopped remembering the good things, Dean," she replied quietly, fingers gently moving over his shirt while her eyes noticed the wedding band he wore. "You wear this not out of love but out of guilt and rage. You wear it to remind yourself not of what we had but of what you lost."

Anger sizzled but he fought it down, not liking to admit that she was right. "I should've protected you more or down more to keep you both safe but…" he hesitated for a long moment, closing his eyes against the painful images that came. "I thought Lucifer…Sam had killed you. I was still so angry that he'd betrayed us by giving in to that…y'know, I hate when you jab me like that."

Having tightened her hand into his chest enough to hurt with short nails, 'Morgan' shook her head slowly. leading him back to the Impala, she sat back on the hood to allow her legs to dangle before meeting his eyes. "Dean…you never understood the reasons I pushed you into going for Sam after Detroit," she sighed, dropping her eyes to her own hand to watch the sun glint off the thin gold band with its tiny stone. "You never listened to me about Sam and that's why Zachariah could manipulate you so easily."

Parts of what the Angel said came back but still left him confused and bitter. "I was in Detroit, babe. I saw my brother facing off with Lucifer, then the bright light hit and all I had to know is that Sam was dead to us," he could still recall the hurt he felt that night but now like then he also saw the pain reflected from his wife's. "What? Zach was muttering some crap but by then I was hurting too much to care why Sammy gave up or…"

"He gave in for us, Dean," she broke in, grabbing for his hands to cling to much as she would when frightened or trying to make him see reason. "In here, in the shadows where you are now, you can see Detroit and what really happened to our Sammy."

Frowning, 'Dean' was about to question that when he saw her eyes shift to cobalt and knew her powers were on as the scene around them, all but the Impala, changed to an environment he still had nightmares about. The night in Detroit when he'd lost his brother but this time he noticed the difference. He caught how raw his little brother's face was as he paced a tiny cramped motel room while speaking on his cell phone.

" 'He won't listen to me,'" he heard Sam say into the phone while the young man ran shaking fingers through hair that had grown to once again fall into his eyes. " 'Dean hasn't wanted to listen to me ever since he decided we were better off hunting apart…no, it's got nothing to do with you but…damn, that's low,'" the younger Winchester closed his eyes as he sat down wearily on his bed and 'Dean' noticed the way his brother moved as if hurt. " 'Morg, having me show up on Bobby's door will just cause Dean to flip and you don't need that if you're…such bad imagery since I really do not want to picture you and my brother having sex…much less having a baby.'"

"God, shoot me," 'Dean' groaned, dropping his gaze to the young woman next to him. "You called Sammy even knowing that I'd given into you and had gone to Detroit to get him."

A simple shrug came. "Sam would talk to me and I thought if he knew how important it was to me that he come for the baby's birth then when you showed up he might not panic," 'Morgan' looked on sadly. "Even on the phone, Dean, I could feel how tired he was. How scared he was and how much he wanted to come home but then…it was too late."

Not understanding what she meant, 'Dean' frowned as he continued to listen and watch a side of this event that he hadn't been able to before as he watched Sam pull a battered and well worn photo from his shirt pocket to gaze at it longingly. " 'Alright, I give in,'" Sam laughed, nodding at something said on the other end. " 'Does Dean ever win an argument with you because I sure never do. Yeah, I'll be there before the baby comes,'" he paused suddenly as if hearing something before swallowing. " 'Morg, tell Dean I'm sorry. That I never wanted to disappoint him and…I love you both. I'll…see you soon.'"

Something was wrong and 'Dean' could tell even before he watched his brother tense as he stood. " 'Leave them alone,'" Sam's voice shook as it always had when confronting the very thing that wanted to possess him. " 'How'd you find me?'"

" 'I have many ways, Sam,'" Lucifer had spoken from the chair where he appeared to be sitting, cocking his head to watch the young man. " 'So, should I offer you congratulations on becoming an Uncle or just offer the soon to be proud parents that wish? Sam, you know by now that you can't hurt me,'" he chided as he caught the blade that was tossed. " 'A new generation of Winchesters and one who will also carry the bloodline of the Mistress of Shadow and Light. Interesting but it also makes him a good possible candidate, since you're proving hardheaded."

'Sam' had paled at the implied threat, taking a step closer on instinct. " 'Don't you dare try to touch my family,'" he gritted, panic setting in since he knew his brother wouldn't be able to fight Lucifer and Morgan couldn't risk it in the condition she was in right then. " 'You want me…you can't touch…"

Lucifer considered the boy a moment before smiling, his current vessel clearly showing signs of burn-out. " 'Actually, while you are preferred for the whole brother on brother aspect, I can use anyone from your direct bloodline, Sam. Which means, I could take Dean's son and either put off this whole Apocalypse while he grows or just radically age the child,'" he frowned as if considering. " 'Of course, your brother would be devastated at losing both his son and his wife in one day, since I'd have to kill her to take immediate possession of the child.'"

As the panic set in with Sam, 'Dean' was feeling his own while listening to Lucifer. Whirling to see that his version of 'Morgan' had backed up against the wall to cross her arms tightly as she relived what she had only seen in distant dreams before, he suddenly understood her near panic when he returned without Sam and also her anger at him at refusing to help his brother.

" 'No, I won't let you touch them,'" Sam was saying, shaking his head as he stepped up into the face of the Devil. "I've stayed away from Dean and Morgan this long to protect them from me and from you so there is no way in Hell that I'll let you hurt my family now.'"

" 'And how will you stop me, Sam?'" Lucifer asked in a mocking tone, reaching out to just lightly press a finger on Sam's shoulder and smiled at the boy's grimace. " 'You're the vessel I'd prefer but if I can't have…'"

" 'Then take me,'" Sam shot out, seeing surprise come over Lucifer's face and almost feeling another person's panic from miles away but forcing down his own feelings as he fought to do one final good thing for his older brother. " 'I'll say yes on the condition that you never harm Morgan, my brother, or any children they may have. I'll give in. Just promise me that you won't go after my family.'"

'Dean' felt himself get sick as he watched this because he knew what would soon happen and he recalled his bitter anger toward his brother because of it but now, as he listened to Sam barter his life and soul just to protect his family.

" 'Well, I have to admit that could be an interesting idea,'" Lucifer considered it for a moment before nodding, holding out a hand. " 'I accept your terms, Sam and hope they come appreciate what you've done for them.'"

The light that flooded the room was what 'Dean' had seen from outside the motel where he'd been watching his brother's room while considering the idea. The night it had happened, all he'd seen was the bright light that signaled Lucifer taking over Sam. Now he watched something else as the lights dimmed and the other body of Nick no longer was present.

He watched as Sam or Sam with Lucifer inside him looked around the room for a long moment before reaching for the worn photo that Dean could now see was one of the three of them on 'Dean' and Morgan's wedding day. 'Dean' expected the shaking hand to crush the photo but was shocked when a single tear dropped on it.

" 'Forgive me, Dean,'" Sam whispered in his own voice before the image faded out.

'Dean' was moving on instinct to catch this young woman since he knew she'd reach for him even before he heard the sobs. "Sonuvabitch," he whispered, trying to force back his own tears as it hit him that his little brother hadn't given into Lucifer out of weakness but… "You tried to tell me, baby. You tried to help Sammy but I wouldn't listen," he tried to sooth, noticing the image he found himself in and going rigid. "No, don't do this, Morgan. I remember enough about this day and I know it wasn't Sam who…who killed you. Don't make either of us relive…"

"You have to see it, Dean. You have to understand what Zachariah's capable of and what he did. What happened with Sam and Lucifer in order to help them back there," she replied, tears shining now as her image changed from the very young woman who had a lifetime of happiness to look forward to, to his wife as he had seen her right before the end. "You have to see so that you can stop hating Sam and yourself and so you can help them not make the same mistakes we did."

Hating the idea of looking any farther than he had to, 'Dean' finally did and felt his rage nearly explode. He watched his emotionally exhausted and physically weakened wife, the love of his life and his best friend, exchange more than words with Lucifer in Sam's body. To his shock the form of his brother, dressed in that damn pure white suit, never once lifted a hand to Morgan…not even when she expended all her power on him in order to drive him from Sam.

Watching with cold rage and horror, 'Dean' saw every moment that he hadn't while he'd been busy fighting through the hordes of zombified Croats just to reach the scene. He watched as Sam fell back and as Morgan fought just to stay conscious, she was attacked from the rear and given no chance to react or fight back from Zachariah's attack, but either Sam or Lucifer had.

'Dean' couldn't be sure who had fought to try to protect his injured wife from the cowardly Angel's attack but while Zachariah had fled, it had been too late as he recalled hearing that God awful scream and only seeing Morgan cradled in Sam's arms.

" 'I couldn't stop…it, Dean. Lucifer didn't have enough hold again to fight them off and I…I tried to protect her but he…God…'" Sam, it had really been his brother speaking then, had sobbed while rocking uncontrollably. "Help her."

Unaware of the tears falling down his face as he watched himself react to what he'd believed had been his brother's final, unthinkable betrayal, 'Dean' clenched his fists. "All I saw was you lying in his arms covered in blood. I couldn't focus on Sam's voice or the fact that he was crying or shaking like he did as a kid. I believed Lucifer killed my wife and I wanted him dead because I knew I couldn't save you so I…"

"Reacted like normal and like Zach knew you would," Morgan nodded and once again the image changed only this time it was back to a house that he recognized as home…the home Bobby had given to Dean and Morgan when he died. The last place 'Dean' had held his wife. "He knew I had pushed Lucifer back and that he'd give Sam his freedom if Sam could fight him that last little bit. Sam could've done that if he'd had you to pull for him, Dean but the moment you turned on him, the very bloody moment you said what you did to him, turned it because Sammy lost all faith. His grief allowed Lucifer to win," she told him, touching a finger over a small crib that had only held their son a short time. "He also destroyed you in ways that not even Alastair did because you turned so cold, so bitter and so hard that it hurts to look at you now. You are your Dad in a lot of ways, luv but those kids don't have to be."

Stepping up to brush a finger cautiously down her neck, 'Dean' was shocked how much those simple words hurt. "I can't help them now, Morg," he sighed, surprised when she turned to face him and gently leaned up to kiss him with a near desperation that shook him. "What…?"

"Zachariah brought you back to use you to hurt them well before you give up again and lose your life you can do some good," she told him, smiling shakily as a gentle breeze blew. "Their lives may not be ours but you can make right what Zach caused you to do. Help them, Dean. Help them so that maybe they can have the happy lives we wanted but above all else, don't let that Dean go through what you did."

Realizing what she was saying, 'Dean' frowned. "Guess not even in death do we get the happily ever after, huh?" he mused bitterly, hands shaking as he held on one final moment, feeling her breath on his face. "I promised you that I'd never let Sam hurt anyone else. Even if Dean survives this, I can't let Sam because one way or another Lucifer will win and…"

"If you keep that promise, Dean, you will never forgive yourself in life or death," Morgan murmured, stepping back to meet his eyes with a sad smile. "I love you, hotshot. Try to remember what the man I fell in love with would do and…"

Gasping painfully as breath, life and agony returned to him with a vengeance, 'Dean's' instinctive reaction to the growl of the Enforcer left to watch him die was to throw the first thing his fingers found and that turned out to be his own knife.

"Shit," managing to roll over, he pushed himself up to see the large pool of blood under him yet when he reached back to touch for the wound he didn't feel anything but a tiny bruise when his gaze fell on the articles dumped from his pouch.

Emotionally reeling from what he still wasn't sure was a massive hallucination or something, Dean slowly slid the rings and other things back in the small bag before pocketing it again when a scream that reminded him of another he'd heard in his own time reached his ears. "Alright, babe, you win," he muttered, dragging himself to his feet while unsheathing the pistol he wore on his thigh. "I swore once that Zachariah wouldn't do this crap to anyone else and he won't…I just hope it's not this time's Dean that I end up killing if I can't heal him."

Wiping his face, 'Dean' was slightly surprised to feel it wet with tears but he was also surprised to still smell the slight leftover fragrance of strawberries and roses. "I'll make it right, my Angel. Before I go back to the pit Zach dragged me from, I'll make it right for them even if I couldn't for you," he whispered, pulling the weapon and eyed it seriously before chambering the first round. "Time to show that it's not just mystics who are in for a damn rude shock."

Heading for the sounds of pained screams, he could only hope that Sam was holding up since he knew they'd need Sam to get through to his brother if any of them stood a chance of stopping Zachariah's latest scheme.

**In one of the old cells:**

Having been on the receiving end of the brutal abuse that can be inflicted by Zachariah's Enforcers, Sam Winchester knew what was in store when he was dragged out of the tiny makeshift torture room.

Two parts of Sam were vying for control right then. The one was the tired, emotionally and physically exhausted part that just wanted to give in to the pain he was in as he hung in the cell with his injured shoulder extended and still bleeding. That part of him just wanted to beg for the pain to stop or to just say 'yes' and hope Lucifer heard it.

The other part, the stronger part that Sam knew came from being a Winchester and being raised by his older brother, fought against the pain, the mocking words of the Enforcers and the urge to give in because he knew, deep down, he knew that if he gave in then both his brother and his friend were dead.

"We should've killed you the first time Zachariah nailed you," an Enforcer who had removed his suit jacket to avoid any splashes of blood sneered, easily hammering the hard wooden stick into the already battered young hunter's kidneys. "Stupid mortal mudmonkeys should know when to do what they're told."

Tasting blood as he bit his tongue to keep back the scream that wanted to come when a hard fist struck his back and shoulder, Sam could barely breathe much less concentrate on a comeback until he heard another sound and the lights seemed to flicker.

"Your brother must be enjoying himself since these electric lights only dim when we use the electric battery," the taller of the three Enforcers with Sam remarked while moving around to the front to remove a small knife. "It's a shame that he doesn't know who he's hurting after all the hassles he caused us just to get him to this stage on conversion…but then I was with Zachariah in that little town so I know what it's like to torture her."

"Shut…up," Sam gritted, tightening his arms to see how much give the ropes had but found none as he heard the agonized screams grow weaker. "Morgan had…nothing to do with us. She's…"

The blade sliced through his shirt to draw blood. "A threat to the plan, boy," the Angel replied, slashing the blade again while the Enforcer with the stick continued his assault to Sam's back. "It was amusing to watch as you and your brother grew up but then it was always assumed that your Father would kill her before she became too much of a nuisance to us but then it got complicated."

A ragged cry couldn't be stopped when one of the Enforcers placed a hand on the small of Sam's back that still bore scars from the last time he'd been attacked by Angels and he felt the burn sear. "I won't let…you hurt…them."

"Boy, the way your brother's mind is now you'd be lucky if he didn't pull a blade on you considering it was your fault that he gave in finally in Hell," the Enforcer with the stick bragged, jerking Sam's head backwards with a hard pull. "Zachariah mentioned it. You were why Dean gave in after 30 years of refusing. Oh, Alastair threatened the whore but it was when he threatened to send his worst demons after you, after he threatened to have you ripped to shreds. Your hero gave in, begged to get off the rack, to become what he has, what he is in the other room right now, just to keep you safe," he mocked, laughing as the boy's eyes grew wide with confusion. Then pain as the reality began to set in. "Dean became Hells' premier torturer just to keep you and that girl safe and you betrayed him how many times."

"You're…lying…" Sam spat, refusing to believe what was said just as he had fought what Zachariah had been saying now and before. He didn't want to believe that Dean had fought so long in Hell only to give in to protect him. He couldn't believe that but things he'd heard in his brother's nightmares shortly after his return were making it hard. "Go to hell."

The three Enforcers all chuckled at that as the blade reared back to slash at the younger man 's face. "That's where you're destined to go without your little friend's interference," he laughed while bringing his arm down to give a nasty cut when a strong hand grabbed his wrist, twisted it back to force the Angel to drop the blade even as a glow began to form causing the Enforcer to scream in pain.

"Zachariah's left the building, his spells and wards to block or dampen our powers went with him, so guess what, boys?" Ethan MacShayne's eyes shined in full power and with an anger few lived to tell about. "I get to take out all my frustrations on your asses."

Surprised at the unexpected interruption, the other two Enforcers quickly abandoned their abuse of Sam to go to the aid of their own comrade only to find themselves slammed back to the far wall with a simple motion of the elder mystic's head.

"I only need one of you for this so…" Ethan paused to consider Sam's condition, seeing both the physical and psychological damage that had been done as he also sensed out the other events in the Alamo that evening before narrowing darkening eyes to gaze at the two Enforcers pinned to the wall before smiling slightly. "People believe Angels are so good and kind. This boy believed that, he believed that if he prayed hard enough, was good enough that perhaps things would change. One damn meeting with Uriel took all that away. Now, I'll take you away."

Snapping the fingers of his free hand to enact powers that he knew Jack wouldn't have approved of him using in front of the boy, Ethan waited until the lights dimmed and nothing was left but ash before shifting his attention back to the Enforcer he still had a hold of. Jerking him up close to his face, there was no mistaking the fury.

"You're breathing, as much as your kind needs to breathe, to take a message back to that blowhard you work for," he spoke very intently, making sure the Angel understand every word even as Castiel appeared in the door. "Zachariah was warned in West Virginia to leave the Winchester brothers alone. He won't do that so I'll offer a second warning. Stay away from these boys and my employer because the next time he comes after them or anyone else I consider a friend or associate it will not be Jack he deals with," Ethan warned coldly, tightening his grip to make his point understood. "The common phrase these days is three strikes and you're out. He has one more strike. Come after these mortals again or even think of touching my family and I will show him how much power I do have and not even an Archangel will be able to bring him back!"

A transportation took the remaining Angel out of the small cell and soon the only sound heard was Sam gasping to regain his breath since the pain had stopped being inflicted.

"I had an Enforcer hold a knife at the throat of my youngest daughter. Lectures that I used too much dark energy on those sons of bitches will not be well received, Castiel," Ethan warned tightly, attempting to rein in power that was too close to the surface but he noticed the trench coat wearing Angel merely nodded before going to check on Sam. "The boy?"

A quick look told Castiel that Sam's worst wound was still the knife cut in his shoulder but he also didn't care for the newly forming welts on his back and sides or the several slashes that covered his chest through the ripped shit. "Help me get him…" he had begun to request when Ethan sliced through the ropes holding Sam upright and the Angel quickly lowered the young man to the floor. "Sam?"

"There's still a lot of crap floating around to allow me to just go in, grab the other one and stop this mess," Ethan complained, trying to find his own sibling and swearing harshly. "I will burn that fat bastard the next time I see him," he growled, hearing Sam groan and forcing himself to focus. "Sam? Can you move?"

"Jack said to take him to Dean," Castiel seemed hesitant on this. "He's in no shape for a physical confrontation with his brother, especially not when Dean is still under the drugs given to him and…"

Listening to the conversation going on around him, Sam felt like curling up again much like he had after the attack he suffered in Oregon but this time he knew he couldn't. This time he knew it was up to him to save his friend and his brother. He'd failed to save Dean from going to Hell and that had allowed all this to start. He hadn't known how many times Morgan had been behind keeping both him and Dean safe, so now he'd be the strong one…assuming he could stay conscious long enough.

"I'll…handle Dean. You help Morgan and handle the…" Sam hissed as his back hurt along with his shoulder and he could just imagine the pain he'd be in come tomorrow but right then he needed to concentrate. "Just…just get me to them."

Both Angel and mystic exchanged glances before shrugging as Ethan helped get Sam to his feet, being careful where he touched even as he used a minor spell to ease some of the boy's pain. "I need to find Jack. Take him and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Castiel didn't have a chance to reply before his elder nephew was gone and he was left with his doubts and a very quiet Sam Winchester. "Dean won't know you, Sam," he chose to point out, figuring this needed to be stressed. "His mind is…"

"Did Dean give up in Hell because Alastair threatened me, Cas?"

This question took the Angel off guard since he wasn't expecting it and he hesitated a long while as he considered the reply. He knew the truth but he also knew Dean did not want, nor would he ever want, his brother to know.

"Sam, now is not the best time to discuss this," he finally replied, hoping this would settle the matter until someone else could handle it better since Castiel was well aware that Morgan Harrison knew the truth too. "You must focus on getting Dean away from the girl and then we'll worry about restraining him until we can gauge the damage that's been done."

"Yeah, I know," Sam whispered, burying the pain in his heart until he could be alone but right now shook away all the doubts and negative thoughts as was finally able to stand on his own when a scream that choked off in mid sound made him break into a run and he prayed he wasn't too late.

**In the main chamber:**

Not knowing that his boss had fled the building and that his own time was growing short, the single enforcer that had been left behind to watch a drugged and mind altered Dean Winchester torture his friend with a clinical precision that would have probably even have scared Hell or Heaven's worst.

Under orders to keep an eye on the boy to be sure he was still firmly under their control, he was also under orders to keep the girl alive for as long as possible so after so many wounds were inflicted and it looked like she might slip under, he'd heal just enough to bring her back around.

Only once did the Enforcer have to inflict pain on the soon to be Vessel and that was only when he hesitated to carve the symbol Zachariah wanted on the witch's back. It didn't pass the suited goon's notice how the mortal boy's hand shook as he held either the knife or the torch to her skin.

"He's actually a lot more methodical than what Zachariah had work on you in that town or in New Orleans," he mused, stepping close to the rack to run a finger through a line of blood that trailed from a bloody slash on the young woman's stomach and was mildly impressed that she still tried to strain against the straps. "Of course, he'll do a lot worse before we let you die and before you take your last breath you'll watch Michael possess his vessel...well, we'll have to heal your vision for that."

Weakly fighting against the burning agony that was nearly every inch of her body, Morgan's thoughts were too scattered to try to force the link even if the drugs or something hadn't blocked or destroyed it. She was still alert enough to feel the slightest touch but she wasn't sure what was the worst torture: knowing the most brutal of it was being done by her friend or the mocking words of the Angel Enforcer.

Unable to see anything but gray shadows, it was instinct that she knew where Dean was at all times when she felt a touch that was alien to her and more painful than even the knife work on her back had been. The heavy leather gag kept all the sounds of her screams muffled but not all since sounds echoed in the room and throughout the building.

She'd tried to block the thoughts of what was happening even as she felt familiar hands touch her an instant before pain seared her upper chest and only the straps on the rack and a firm hand over her heart held her still when her slender form shook violently.

"You're doing very good, Dean," the Enforcer murmured as he lifted one of her bloodied hands despite the wrist strap before reaching for a rusted, bloody nail with a cruel smile. "Should I demonstrate how Jesus was crucified?" he teased, holding her hand still while starting to impale her hand when another hand grabbed his wrist. "What?"

"No," emotions that he couldn't understand or place were hammering him but his voice was low, harsh as he grabbed the Angel's hand on some deeper base instinct. "Get away…from…uh…"

Scowling, the Enforcer dropped the nail in order to face off with this mortal his boss's wanted alive. "You'll mind your tone with me or I'll remind you of the pain you endured earlier or…I'll open enough of your mind to let you see what you're doing and to whom," he growled, backhanding Dean hard enough to draw blood from his mouth as he returned his attention to their captive. "Take the knife and carve your name into her stomach under burn Zachariah left."

Dean's hand shook as the discarded knife was picked up, tip touching skin that flashes of images suddenly rushed his mind. The muffled voice making his hesitate, glancing up at the young woman's pale face, and seeing tears streaking the blood.

Memories of fire, pain, fear, and humiliation bombarded his mind as he struggled to understand why seeing tears on his face made him sick. The knife still held steady against her stomach, he reached up with his left hand to almost tenderly stroke the back of it over her cheek and swallowed the sudden lump that formed when he felt her try to jerk away. "Shh, it'll be over soon," he wasn't certain why her tears made him ache when no other soul he'd tortured in Hell had but…

Flashes of silver came to him as he remembered hooking the silver chain with the heart on it around her neck. Blinking, the haze over his eyes seemed to clear briefly as other memories surfaced only to be pushed back down in a wall of pain and fire as a needle jabbed into his neck.

"Carve her or I'll begin myself, boy," the Enforcer snarled, raising a hand to strike again when the sound of a pistol being cocked made him glance up and freeze. "You? A puny mortal weapon can't hurt…"

The pistol that fired sounded like a canon going off in the small room and the single .45 caliber round that struck the gloating Enforcer in the forehead was like a bomb in the Angel's head as it glowed bright blue for a moment before the shocked thing fell to the floor dead.

"Yeah, pity for you I still have a thing or two left that can hurt you dicks," 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 slowly lowered the pistol he always carried in his thigh holster before moving his hard eyes to take in the scene in front of him. Swallowing the bile that threatened to come up as he was faced with a scene that took him back to his own time.

His memories of Zachariah's attempt to turn him were sparse and painful but he did recall one huge thing. That was a brief encounter between himself and his wife as she and Sam fought the Angels for his very life and essence. It hadn't been like this and as the muted link screamed images and pain at him he was slow to move the gun since every instinct had him wanting to hurt his younger self even though he knew the kid wasn't in his right head.

"Hey, Dean, I think we need to talk," he began darkly, slipping the weapon back into its holster but pulled a knife out since he wasn't facing the kid unarmed. "You don't want to hurt Morgan…but you don't see her, do you?" he realized this as soon as he saw the tick in the younger man's jaw at her name. "You see me?"

"Yeah, I see you demon," Dean gritted, fist tightening on the knife he held as he backed away from the future, older version as if seeing something that frightened him. "I killed you once and I can do it again."

"Huh," 'Dean' scowled a little, understanding what the kid was probably seeing and not liking it. Without Zachariah or any of the Enforcers around to control the images, Dean's mind was going full tilt and out of control…which would make him more dangerous. "How about you step away from her so we can deal with this ourselves?" he asked, taking a step to try to get between the now shaking hunter and Morgan when he immediately realized his mistake. "Damn! Dean, no!"

Moving quickly, the younger version of Dean jumped back and placed the knife to Morgan's throat but he couldn't see or hear anything but the pounding of his own heart and the dark images in his own head. "Stay the hell away from me or I'll…" the words died on his lips as his mind slapped at him with more memories but this time he struggled against them. "I'll kill her."

"No, you won't. Because my big brother has loved Morgan for too long to hurt her like that," Sam's voice spoke from the door where he had entered silently enough to get closer to his confused and drugged out brother as he waited a beat to add more firmly. "You also won't kill her because I won't let you."

Glassy green eyes jerked up at the new voice, Dean seemed to hesitate only a moment but it was enough time for Sam to act. Seeing the knife blade lift from his frightened friend's throat, he moved with a speed that many people forgot he had.

"Get her loose and shout for Cas!" he snapped at the future version of his brother a second before he lunged, knocking the blade out of Dean's hand and taking them both across the room and down to the floor.

A quick look told future 'Dean' that in Sam's current shape he wouldn't last too long against his brother but he supposed it might be better to allow him to handle it for now. "Grab a blanket," he told Castiel once he came into the room but then his focus was on one thing and one thing only: trying to free a scared girl when his very touch would probably remind her too much of the man who had done this. "Dean, don't kill your brother!"

"We should break them up," Castiel remarked, looking between the battling brothers to the cross-shaped rack that reminded him of the one he had created to hold Alastair. "Is she…"

Looking up with a dark expression, 'Dean' smirked. "I'd forgotten how dense you could be at times. No, she's not alright," he replied sourly, unhooking the gag strap first and hurling it away with far more force than was necessary and was quick to try to soothe her, especially when he noticed her eyes. "Morgan, it's okay. You're safe and…shit…Angel, hold still."

Pain, exhaustion, shock, drugs and fear all made for a bad combination as Morgan couldn't see anything but shadows but the more callused hands that touched her seemed to frighten her more as she began to scream hoarsely for him to stop.

"No…Dean…please don't…"

"Angel, you're safe now. Sam's got Dean and…well he's sorta has him," 'Dean' sighed upon noticing that Dean had gotten the upper hand on his younger brother but had to admit surprise when Sam's fist rammed itself under Dean's jaw. "Shhh, stay still so I can get you off this goddamn thing," he dropped his voice to a lower, more soothing one that shocked him that he still had.

Talking to her softly, the future 'Dean' took a more intense look at the wounds she had to gauge his next move when he noticed the dark frown upon the Angel's face as he gazed at Morgan's back. Making sure to keep a gentle hand on her, he moved so he could see what Castiel was and barely stopped the harsh oath that wanted to come. "Okay, baby girl here's the plan. I'm gonna get these straps off of you, then Cas is going to yell for a MacShayne and get you out while I finish beating the hell out of my younger self," he spoke in a soft voice but there was no mistaking the rage.

Taking a look to see who was winning across the room, 'Dean' was careful when he began to undo the straps since if he had any experience with anything, he knew how Morgan would react to being touched after this ordeal.

Having freed most of them, he took the rough blanket from Castiel to gently lay it over her before unhooking the final two bloodied restraints and was prepared for what came next when the girl tried to jerk free of the metal rack only to fall into his arms.

"No! Let go!" struggling uselessly, Morgan felt the arms that restrained her and instinct and fear had her fighting until shock finally won out and she went limp against him, small convulsions causing her to jerk. "Dean…"

Whispering against her hair, 'Dean' recalled a similar time in his own life when his friend had nearly been as traumatized as this and he'd held her for weeks after her attack by the two hunters his Father had set on her. "We'll make him better, babe," he promised softly, tensing as a step sounded close to them but he only scowled. "Y'know the reason I hate mystics?" he asked without looking up. "You're as late here as you always were in my time. What can you do?"

Seeing that Sam and Dean were still scraping across the room, Ethan MacShayne considered the question upon trying to gauge the immense injuries of his friend. "Here, not much," he admitted grimly, kneeling down to place a gentle hand over Morgan's tightly closed eyes to hopefully undo some of that damage. "Give her to me and…"

"Don't touch!" this time when Morgan lashed out, a sharp flash of light arced from her fingers to make the older mystic hiss then she tried to curl up into a ball to fight the pain and feelings that were assaulting her mind. "Want…Dean. Sam!"

Hearing his friend's confused cry, Sam took the chance to glance over and then saw stars when a fist struck the side of his head. "Dean, I know in some warped way this is just your way of getting back at me for all the times I've hit you but I swear when this is over, you and I are gonna have issues if you don't settle down and listen to me!" he snapped.

"Shut up!" Dean's eyes were showing him something other than his little brother as he fought this taller man even as something was telling him to stop. "You're not Sammy. My brother wouldn't have done what you have."

"I know," Sam whispered sadly, ducking the next fist to suddenly grab his brother from behind which got him a headbutt to the face but he still held on even as Dean fought this move viciously. "Dean, dammit! Stop and listen to me. Zachariah and the damn Angels hurt you! They've tricked you into hurting Morgan because they want her dead…they wanted me out of the road and well, I guess if we're honest I don't blame you if you want me dead but you have to stop," he urged, hissing in pain as his injured shoulder resented this fight.

Feeling his opponent go off balance for just a second, Dean threw him over his hip and went to strike out with a stiff fingered jab to the throat. "Liar," he gritted, body aching as new and old wounds began to appear. "She's gone…haven't seen her since…"

Looking over to locked eyes with the older, harder version of his brother, he caught the grim head shake that meant they needed to move and that was when something his brother mumbled hit him and a rage flew over Sam.

"She didn't give a damn?" he repeated tightly, throwing an elbow back to knock the wind out of his weakening brother before grabbing him by the shirtfront and throwing him back against a wall. "Don't you ever say that Morgan never gave a damn about you…about us because she's been lookin' out for us longer than anyone else. She's been lookin' out for you longer than anyone and what did it get her, Dean?" he snapped, blocking a weak fist until he was firmly in control and ignoring Castiel's warning to take it easy. "She looked out for you so much that she walked into a damn setup. Dad set her up one night, Dean. In this very place, in this room, he lured her to San Antonio by dropping leads that you were hunting alone and he set her up with two goddamn hunters," feeling his brother's body going rigid, Sam was a little relieved to see that his eyes seemed to be clearing but he knew it wouldn't last.

Sam waited to be sure he was in the correct position to drop the final piece of news on his fading brother and just prayed he wasn't making a mistake. "You stopped Dad from hurting Morg in Boston, Dean. Too bad you didn't stop what happened here because thanks to her one track mind about protecting you, she didn't recognize the trap until Dad's friends jumped her. They assaulted her and according to the papers I've read she spent a week in a freakin' hospital before she discharged herself AMA because _you_ were in Florida after a goddamn water spirit!"

"Yeah, this is gonna be real good if Dean comes out of this," the future 'Dean' muttered, tightening his arms around Morgan as she whimpered a name.

Whether it was the pure rage in the boy's voice, the unknown tears shining in large hazel eyes or the words he spoke, something made Dean Winchester stop fighting long enough to let his gaze move to look at the semi conscious young woman being held in the arms of a man wearing his own face. He went to reach out on reflex when the other voice returned and his face went hard with a scowl only a second before a hard fist brought him down finally.

"Sorry, Dean," Sam whispered, letting his brother fall gently as he stepped back to weave slightly on his feet before going to kneel down. "Morgan?" letting his finger gently touch her neck for a pulse, he felt it beating weakly but frowned at the blood before reaching to take her.

"Sam, perhaps letting this…'Dean' carry her would be…Ethan, stop slapping me," Castiel declared, frowning deeply when the younger hunter shook his head.

Worried that she'd react violently to the boy, Ethan was prepared to offer what protection he could when he saw Morgan allow Sam to pick her up and despite his own wounds, the boy made no sounds of pain as he stood up. "Can we please just get them out of this place now?" he asked quietly, unsure what he was going to do once he got his friend and brother to safety but just wanting to be away from this damn place.

"Yeah, Sammy, we're going to Bobby's," 'Dean' assured him, standing easily after grabbing Dean's jacket and a few other things that had been thrown aside. Laying a hand on Sam's shoulder, he was more than shocked when the boy didn't jerk it off as he had been but lean into the offered support. "So, can either of you do the zapping thing or…"

"…What in the goddamn hell is going on?" Bobby Singer's voice was the next thing 'Dean' and Sam heard when the atmosphere settled and things came back into focus. "I've got a semi-comatose mystic on my library floor and…shit!"

The older hunter was rolling forward even as Sam's legs were buckling. Only a set of strong hands kept him from going down hard and crashing both himself and Morgan to the floor.

"Easy, Sammy," 'Dean' urged, settling him in the closest chair and going to take the unconscious young woman only to have Sam slap his hands away with a low snarl that warned him to ease off. "Sam, we're at Bobby's. Let her go so I can…"

Pain and loss of blood were making Sam very cranky as he once again slapped the older 'Dean's hands away from his friend. "No," he mumbled in a tone that sent both 'Dean' and Bobby's alarm bells off because it was the tired, petulant tone Sam used as a kid when close to a tantrum. "I stayed with her when Dean was hurt before so I'll stay until you make sure she's okay."

"Well, he's like my Sam in that way," 'Dean' muttered sourly, looking to make sure Castiel had the real Dean under control for the moment. "Kid always was a brat when sick."

Morgan stirred restlessly as Sam's arms tightened to protect her without realizing that it might be scaring her. As Bobby tried to reason with the younger Winchester and 'Dean' grumbled about the stubbornness of little brothers everywhere, a hand placed itself on the back of Sam's neck to cause his eyes to roll back as sleep was introduced too quickly and only a fast grab kept him in the chair.

"Boy, I outta aim that shotgun at your ass if you didn't already look like something chewed you up and spit you out," Bobby growled, glaring at a barely on his feet Jack MacShayne before choosing to take advantage of having both young people out. "Get them upstairs in a bedroom, then you can get me upstairs so I can see how bad they're both hurt, lock that one down in the panic room and make sure he can't hurt anyone if he comes to and finally one of your jackasses had better tell me what in the hell went wrong!"

As Bobby rolled out to find his large medical kit and Castiel took Dean downstairs to the panic room which was the only place in the house safe enough to hold him until they could see how much damage was done. 'Dean' leaned against the mantle to let out a tired sigh before gazing at this timeline's Sam as, even in his sleep, he sought to protect and shield his friend. "_Sonuvabitch_."

"Well, this job sucks," Jack groaned, still feeling like crap as he considered how much power he had to teleport upstairs when Ethan took care of that for him. "Sam's raw both on the outside and inside and the boss looks like raw meat. I'm also not picking up much from Dean that says his mind can even be saved. You got another plan, future dork?"

"Yeah, but Sam won't like it," 'Dean' sighed, jerking his jacket off before heading for the steps because he understood all too well the danger that Dean posed in this state. He also understood something else. "Zachariah and Michael aren't like Lucifer. They don't give a crap about the old rules. They see a warm body perfect for an Archangel."

Jack nodded grimly, not caring for that or the tone he heard. "Your point and why do I think I'm not going to like your next few words?"

"Because if we can't fix Dean's mind, if he can't be healed from what that jackass did, then there's only one way to stop Michael from using him as a vessel," 'Dean' paused to stare at a photo that Bobby kept on the wall. He considered it before offering a silent apology to his own wife much like the one he'll be offering a frightened girl upstairs soon enough. "To stop Michael, to save this planet then I'll have to do to Dean what I came here to do to Sammy. We'll have to kill him."

Blinking at that cold, emotionless statement, Jack watched the older, time altered hunter walk upstairs and only the way his shoulders were bunched gave away how much those words had hurt him. "Yeah, the boss will love that plan," he muttered, hearing his cell phone ring and figuring it was going to be a ticked off mercenary leader decided to avoid it for now. Slumping on the steps to figure a way to not only save the planet, keep the Angels out of this but to also salvage his employer's life and that of both Winchesters now. "Shit, I so hate my life."

**TBC**

**A/N: **Not too big of a cliffhanger chapter this time, huh? Ah, so much angst, so much drama. Will Dean survive what was done? How will Sam handle this new guilt trip? Will anyone come out of this unscathed? Stay tuned for Chapter 11 as we see what can be done to save our hero from either certain insanity or certain death.


	11. Chapter 11

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Seventy-Two Hours Later:**

"Kel, quit yelling. As soon as I get a free moment where I can trust Ethan not to blow up a hunter or our erstwhile relative I'll go back to San Antonio. I'll fix the damn damage or send Devan down," rubbing his head to get rid of the pain building between his eyes, Jack MacShayne felt like he should have stayed in his quiet little space rather than get involved in all this Apocalypse crap.

Listening to the highly upset mercenary leader complain about the various damages done in San Antonio, the mystic was still in the midst of trying to get his own levels back up after Zachariah's attack when a loud thud came from upstairs followed by a sharp yell from Bobby Singer to break it up or he was getting his shotgun.

"Gotta go, Kel," he sighed, mentally flipping a coin on what caused the sound. "Either Ethan opened his big mouth the wrong way or Sam just found out Plan B and flipped out."

Pocketing the phone, Jack took the quick way to the second floor just in time to grab his older brother's hand before it could raise on instinct to what he'd take as an attack. "Eth, step back and chill out. Sam, settle down before you fall back down. Future dude, I don't suggest you repeat what you obviously said in front of the kid if my boss is even remotely coherent. And Singer, don't go for that damn shotgun since I don't feel like fixing any buckshot holes this week," he declared all in one breath, taking a look around before putting himself between a clearly angry Sam Winchester and the others. "What set this off, as if I didn't know?"

"There is no way in hell anyone's killing Dean!" Sam snapped, starting to stand up from the bed he was sitting on when he dropped back down, as his head still seemed dizzy. "He'll come out of this. Morgan and I can help him come out of this but if you try to hurt my brother…I'll find a sigal or spell to wipe all your butts out of here."

"Samuel, you need to be realistic and…" Ethan began to speak only to have Jack shoot him a warning look a second before a shotgun was pumped.

"Dean's stubborn and a fighter so he can fight this," Sam argued, tired hazel eyes glancing over at the bed that was normally his brother's to see that Morgan was still unconscious but he was starting to notice uneasy jerks in her fingers and under her eyelids. "He survived…Hell, he's survived all the crap Dad put him through and all the stuff I've done so he can survive this. He just needs help," he hesitated when all he received were dark looks before finally shifting to lock eyes with this alternate version of his brother. "Besides, if you kill Dean, wouldn't that do more harm to your timeline than what I…or what you say is me did there?"

'Dean' stuck his tongue in his cheek rather than reply right away since he understood all too well what Sam was feeling since he had his own doubts about things he'd need to do before the end. "Actually, I'm halfway sure that even having him like this has screwed up my timeline, Sammy," he admitted slowly, seeing Jack frown. "Right?"

Confused, Sam let his gaze go between them before easing over to sit next to his tensing friend. "What…what do you mean?" he asked, seeing what was laying on the nightstand but avoided thinking about it. "How could Dean being…hurt like this affect…"

"This timeline, you and Dean, are the main pivotal point in all other timelines, realities, etc, Sam," Jack began slowly, hearing a warning hiss come from behind him but accepting that the boy needed to understand why the choices made here always affected others. "Some choices, some decisions made here may cause little ripples in other times like the more obvious differences here and in this guy's time but huge issues, like you or Dean saying yes to my Uncles. Or one of you suffering a serious world altering injury like Dean has will have giant ramifications because it'll change things that needed to happen," he paused to consider his next few words. "Dean's current state and what he's done because of it will affect things down the road because this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Then why did it?" Bobby demanded sourly, watching Sam closely to notice the younger man had been unusually quiet since waking up though he assumed that was natural enough given what he'd been through.

A muted sound could be heard from below them and Sam's body visibly tensed to the point that he didn't even react to the hand that touched his newly healed shoulder. "Because Zachariah got desperate and pushed the issue," 'Dean' replied evenly, hating to see the pain and confusion in any version of his kid brother but there was something else wrong that he couldn't put a finger on yet. "Zach will do anything to get Michael in his destined vessel and he doesn't care what those actions change or who they hurt."

"Has it changed your time?" Bobby was lost with all this alternate timeline crap or future stuff but he had a hunch by the tightness around older 'Dean's' eyes that he knew it had.

"If I wasn't already dead in my time then yeah, this would have changed it. and I'm honestly not sure if it wouldn't anyway since this has all happened before Sam said…before that all happened in my timeline," 'Dean' admitted grimly, hearing the same sounds that Sam had and knew the times were just going to get harder. "More than likely, my whole timeline changed but how badly I couldn't say or…"

"Without you, there's nothing to keep either hunters or Angels from killing your wife. Sam will give in to Lucifer much earlier out of anguish over his loss and your…" Ethan stopped when a sharp jab hit him and only Jack's dark eyes told who it had come from even as 'Dean' tensed.

Sam reached out to see that while the mystics had healed his wounds to only leave minor bruises or cuts, he noticed that they hadn't been able to heal Morgan's injuries and he didn't like the ones he could still see. "Why isn't she waking up?" he asked suddenly, holding both his brother's amulet and the heart necklace in his hand to see that both had been cleaned of blood. "Why didn't you heal her?"

"We tried to heal the boss, Sam," Jack cut in before either his brother or Uncle could reply stupidly. "The most severe wounds closed so she wouldn't bleed out much like yours did but…the rest…I think it'll take more than our powers to heal her just like it'll take more to heal Dean."

"She can help him once she wakes up," of this the younger Winchester was certain, tightening his hand around both objects as the shouts seemed to get worse and since he knew how solid the panic room it made it harder to hear. "Does Dean…does he know what's going on?"

Bobby rolled over to put a hand on the boy's arm in support and remembered how hard it had been on Dean the first time they needed to lock Sam down in the room in his basement. "He ain't been conscious much and when he is…"

"Dean has no recollection of where he is or what's happened to him," Castiel finally spoke grimly. "He goes from shouting for your Father, to swearing at Alastair, which means he could believe he's in Hell to looking for you to…again with the slapping, Jack?"

The mystic rolled his eyes while 'Dean' grabbed onto Sam to keep him sitting on the bedside next to Morgan. "Eth, take Uncle Motor Mouth and Singer down to the basement and check to be sure my less than favorite hunter isn't doing himself more harm," he growled, giving the Angel a dark look.

"We'll get him through this, boy," Bobby vowed, giving Sam's arm a final squeeze before allowing Castiel to zap him down to the basement. "You just don't give up on him or yourself."

Nodding, Sam closed his eyes to avoid seeing memories of what he had in that awful looking and smelling torture room but he couldn't get out of his ears the bragging of the Angels of what his brother endured in Hell. Or the sounds of Dean shouting or the way Morgan had screamed at the merest touch of either Bobby or himself since neither mystic nor Angel could go near her and the future 'Dean' seemed to hesitate unless he had to.

"Zachariah nailed you once and you survived it. You fought back," Sam lifted his tired and wet eyes up to look at the older version of his brother. "How'd you do it that my brother can't?"

Moving to gaze out the bedroom window, 'Dean' hated this. He didn't want to cause the boy to lose hope but he knew that Sam needed to be prepared for the worst…even if it was something that no one wanted to think on. "Yeah, I was nailed by that cheap-suited bastard and I was put through the ringer by the goon squad. There were a lot of differences between what happened to me and what he did to Dean here," he began slowly, not liking to think on much less fully remember that time in his life but he sighed and went on. "Zach didn't pump me up with anywhere near the amount of or the kind of drugs he used on Dean. He didn't do the physical or mental crap that he nailed your brother with but the biggest difference and what's gonna make this harder is that I was broke free by my…you and my wife.

"Morg and Sam got me loose from them and that's when the real trouble started because I was so out of it that I don't remember fully what happened except I know when I woke up finally I was strapped to that bed in the panic room. It was a full week before I could get Morgan to meet my eyes fully," 'Dean' recalled the pain in those blue eyes, the shadows that he despised since he knew he'd put them there and the bruises he later saw on her that neither she nor Sam would never talk about. "They pulled me back from the brink because I do remember wanting to give in to the hate, the rage those drugs made me feel. I wanted to say yes to Michael and above all I wanted to hurt them."

"Did you…" Sam hesitated to ask because this was the first time he could say that he honestly saw real depth of feeling come out of this man since their first meeting in Massachusetts. "I mean, did you hurt your…"

Twisting the wedding band uneasily, 'Dean' didn't answer right away as he thought back to those days and the memories he did have. "I…I don't know," he admitted with a sigh. "Sammy told me after I pinned him down for the answers that I'd broken free a couple times and before he could get between us that I'd lashed out at Morgan but he'd never betray her and tell me the truth. She never answered me and that was the one block she ever kept up…or so I thought until now.

"Now, with your Dean…Sammy, I never hurt my wife like they forced Dean to hurt Morgan. She's going to be scared and if she's scared of him that bond, if it still exists, if Zach didn't manage to burn it out with Dean's mind…that bond won't work and the only way for either of them to heal is to trust the other one," he glanced back to see that he had Sam's full attention. "You need to trust him because she can't do this alone."

Sam seemed to consider that as he lightly ran a finger over a still livid cut on her lower arm that he knew extended up to her shoulder and winced when he heard her moan in an uneasy sleep before she called out for his brother much like he'd heard her do a summer that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Did Dean give up in Hell for me?" he demanded suddenly, not looking at either man but he still heard the sharp inhale of breath from one and a low curse in Enochian from the other. "Is that why he gave in after thirty years? Because that bastard threatened me? Is that why you gave in?"

"I am so burning the next goddamn Angel that shows its wings," Jack growled lowly, starting to do damage control when the other 'Dean' shook his head to wait.

"It's not my or Jack's place to answer that, Sam," he replied evenly, guessing what it was that was bothering the kid now. "Dean's reasons for giving up are…"

A sudden movement had Sam's fist slamming down onto the nightstand before shooting to his feet. "No wonder he hated me. He went to Hell for me and he gave in to all that crap for me so don't lie to me!"

"Ask Morgan, Sam," 'Dean' finally told him, ignoring the sharp glare that got him. "I can tell you why I gave in but it may be totally different than your Dean's reasons but I can tell you that unlike me, your brother never once resented you for anything. Now, you gonna stay here with her or follow me to make sure I don't do what will end up being needed?"

Jack groaned, figuring that the younger hunter would more than likely kill before the night was over but was surprised when Sam glanced between the man who was so alike and so different than his own brother and his sleeping friend before pocketing both the amulet and the necklace.

"I said I'd keep my deal and that you could try to kill me after you helped me save my brother," Sam began slowly, his voice taking on a tone that the mystic couldn't recall hearing from him before. "I will and you can but if you try to raise a damn weapon to my brother I'll put you back in that grave long before Zachariah can," he warned, walking out with more courage than he honestly was feeling when he could still hear the ragged shouts coming from downstairs.

"You do realize that I'll wipe you out of existence again if you try to touch either of the Winchesters, right?" Jack gave a sidelong look to the alternate version of 'Dean Winchester'. "I'll handle Dean if I have to but not until we see how bad it is or…" the muted sounds of a shotgun blast was heard a second before Bobby was shouting. "…and someone just shot a hole in my brother. Shit, Ethan will be pissed."

Leaving the bedroom in his normal way, Jack left the alternate 'Dean' alone in the bedroom to choose to make his own way down or avoid the panic room all together given his own memories of it.

Taking a deep breath, 'Dean' was slow to let it out as he allowed his eyes to soften while folding a limp, cold hand in his and felt the pulse jump rapidly as his touch made the young woman twist to free herself from the threat her mind saw. "I'll do my best to save him, Angel but your boy has had so much hell done to him this time. I can't promise it and I can't apologize to you, or Sammy that because of my stupidity to try to save my time that I might've cost you yours," he murmured, hearing voices growing louder and accepted that he had to face another of his nightmares. "Sleep, Morg."

Looking back at he went to close the door, 'Dean' missed the slender shadow that misted in the corner as he closed the door, and it slowly approached the bed unseen.

**Downstairs in the basement, Panic Room:**

Waking up to pain, cold, and confusion all rolled into one, it got worse when Dean realized he was tied down on the metal bed in the center of a room that he couldn't immediately place.

"No…not again," jerking his head around, Dean struggled to both free himself from the heavy chains and leather straps that were binding him at the wrists and ankles and to figure out where he was but his eyes were still blurry with leftover images of other dark, dank rooms like this one.

The sound of metal on metal made him look up to see the shadow of the fan moving in the grate made into a devil's trap and something about that single item made him relax a little…until a burning pain went through his gut and he arched on the bed, a scream of pure rage escaping him.

So one minded on trying to pull his wrists free or break the straps, he didn't hear the sound of the heavy metal door opening until a hand rested on his bare chest and he reacted violently.

"Shit, boy! What the hell did ya do to him?" Bobby demanded from the door as Castiel pushed the chair inside the room just as Dean's body jerked to Ethan's touch.

Frowning as he considered the young man's reaction, Ethan stepped back to test a theory that perhaps the boy would calm down and he did but as soon as he stepped back to him the same thing occurred and a sharp oath came out. "He's been brutally tortured by both demons and Angels. I've used my powers recently at too high a level so a simple touch from me will cause him pain," he declared grimly, meeting Castiel's eyes. "I figure a touch from you will have the same effect. Probably his brother, Morgan, our future version or the old man can touch him."

"I'll…kill…you all if you…" Dean's voice was harsh, brittle and certainly not like his normal one as he stared at the strangers who he mistook as more attackers. "Do…your damndest but…noooooo!"

"What's he seeing?" Bobby demanded, hating to see a boy he'd known since he was a youngster hurting this way and memories of Sam being locked down like this came back. "Sam had hallucinations. Is that what…?"

"Dean's fighting on a base instinct but his mind isn't able to create illusions like the demon blood made Sam see," Castiel replied seriously, not knowing what he could do to help his friend but aware that time was running out. "The drugs in his blood and the images Zachariah had projected into his thoughts are still running rampant so he sees those but once those are out of his system…it's unlikely if he'll do or say anything."

Automatic reaction had Bobby pulling the shotgun as Dean screamed bitterly for them to stop before he began shouting at his Father to stop. That was when the grizzled older hunter lost enough concentration that the situation in the room went from bad to lethal in the second it finally took the overly hyped up young hunter to break the straps and lunge.

"Bobby!" Castiel rarely raised his voice but even he was taken by surprise by Dean's sudden move to shove himself away from the bed and with more agility and stability than a man with his injuries should've had grabbed the shotgun from Bobby. "Dean, stop!"

Every fiber of his being was telling him to stop, to think it through but the pain and images searing his mind made pure hunter's reflex's come out as he slammed the butt of the shotgun into Bobby's jaw and knocking the wheelchair over even as he was whirling to fire it.

The sound of the shotgun going off was loud under normal circumstances but in the confined space of the panic room it was made worse. It also seemed to make his already pounding head worse as Dean dropped the weapon to grab his head with both hands, falling to his knees with a cry of pain. His next cry was one that gave the Angel hope. "…Sammy!"

"He's calling for Sam so that might be a good thing," Castiel had moved to help Bobby when he heard a low curse that he translated into something not good even while looking for his elder nephew and freezing. "Ethan? Are you alright?"

Biting his tongue to keep from answering that the way he wanted to, Ethan MacShayne didn't bother to move from where he leaned against the far wall with his left hand clutching his right shoulder until he was sure the sight of a hole in it wouldn't upset the older hunter. "Your…friend just shot a goddamn hole in my shoulder, Castiel," he growled, eyes slitting dangerously. "By all rights, I should reduce the boy to dust for just that act alone!"

"Yeah, but you won't or else when the boss wakes up she'll fry us both or worse call baby sister back in and neither of us want to deal with Erin," Jack replied calmly as he appeared in the room. Taking a quick look around to check the damage before deciding Cas could handle Singer and Ethan wouldn't bleed to death since he knew it took a lot more to injure his brother. "Keep a hand over the hole until it closes some though or shout for your wife again. Winchester, you are not high on my brother's list of fave people so shooting him ain't gonna help," he spoke easily while carefully going to grab an arm when he leaned back from the fist that was aimed at his throat. "I hate hunters."

Dean fought to get to his feet as his eyes blurred to see this room but this time he saw himself holding his thrashing little brother down to keep him from hurting himself. He heard Sam screaming for help from him and feeling utterly useless.

"Dean?"

Whirling but falling as his weakened legs seemed to give out when a long, angry looking gash opened in his thigh, Dean narrowed his eyes to see past the shadows and finally was able to focus on… "Sammy."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sam was cautious as he stepped into the panic room but didn't make a move toward his brother. "You're safe, Dean," he told him quietly, wishing to God that Morgan was awake since he knew she'd be able to get through to his big brother. "We're back at Bobby's but…I need you to lie down for now until you get…Dean!"

A deep need to believe had Dean wanting to believe that his brother was in front of him but he knew the truth. This was just another demon conjured image to turn his world inside out, to rip his heart and guts out further than they had been and so long as he could stay free of the chains and the rack then he had a chance to free himself and… "Get the hell away from me!"

Bringing up a knife he'd grabbed from somewhere, he'd started to lunge for this thing wearing Sam's face when strong hands grabbed him to shove him down onto the bed in the center of the room and held him there while the voice that snapped at him made him look up into his own face…only with familiar demon eyes.

"Okay, sunshine, enough's enough and shooting mystics are one thing but as you'd be prone to say to me if you were in your damn right head no one's hurting Sam without a fight. Now stay down or I'll put you down until you're willing to listen to reason," 'Dean' snapped, putting his full weight on the struggling younger man while trying to reach for the first strap and cursing under his breath until towel cushioned strap was quickly placed over the closest wrist. "Thanks."

"I hate doing this to him so just hurry up and get it done," Sam muttered, feeling his throat clog and his stomach twist as his confused and agitated brother tried to fight the heavier restraints that now tied him down and he shouted every swear word he knew and some that shocked even his younger brother. "God, is this how it was for Dean when he tried to detox me from the demon blood?"

The future version of 'Dean' looked up from hooking the last strap, hating the pain in the younger man's eyes since he had always hoped his Sam had never remembered anything of that time. "I'm sure it wasn't all sunshine and roses," he shrugged, keeping the easy going tone to his voice to disguise how hard it was to see these boys suffering like this. "Now though we just have to settle him down until either the drug gets out of his blood some or…"

"The drug Zachariah used on Dean is much more advanced and ancient and therefore more deadly and devastating than even the one he tricked this 'Dean' into giving to the girl," Castiel spoke after he helped Bobby back into his wheelchair but shifted so neither of his nephews could slap him this time. "His reactions and the damage done to him may be too…"

"Cas!" Bobby reached up to hit the Angel's arm while rolling his eyes, noticing the way Sam tensed. "Any way to bring the boy down from this crap? The way he's struggling Dean's gonna give himself a damn stroke or something."

'Dean' moved but stayed close to the bed in case the straps didn't hold again as Sam went to sit beside his brother. "He's strong so a heart attack isn't an issue…he'll go mad all the way before that happens."

"He needs Morgan!" Sam stared at the two necklaces he held in his hand, his gut telling him what needed to be done. "You can heal what they can't or…"

"Sam…maybe you don't understand what happened to her but right now…my voice…my touch will scare her about as much as his would," 'Dean' replied grimly, noticing that Jack had finally gotten Ethan back to his feet while the hole in his shoulder seemed to have grown smaller. "Zach made Dean hurt her just for that reason because he knows that without her…"

"Without her Dean can't heal and without Dean neither can she which will leave both boys open." Jack groaned, rubbing his eyes in frustration. "This is just great."

Sam considered what was being said and what wasn't said as he looked down to see that finally his brother had either worn himself out or passed out from the pain but then he noticed that Dean's fingers were moving in a certain pattern. "Is he seeing her?"

Also catching what his younger alternate self seemed to be doing, 'Dean' considered the finger pattern more closely before closing his eyes as if in pain. "His language with her is different than the one Morg and I had but…he seems to be seeing images from the past that mix with Hell and…crap, Zach's images are ripping his mind apart."

"It might be that we have to do what this one suggests if it looks like he won't heal," Ethan sounded grim as he considered their dwindling options. "Keeping Michael from claiming his vessel is more important right now than…"

"Crap," 'Dean' groaned, hearing the words and the realistic tone but more importantly he recognized the way Sam's whole body had gone rigid a second before he shot to his feet. "Sam! Lucifer bringing you back or not, getting in Ethan's face won't help either your brother or Morgan so settle down!"

Rage and grief plain, the younger hunter planted himself firmly in between his stirring brother and what he now considered a much bigger threat to him. "Get out," he spoke lowly, fists clenching as he glared at the mystics. "Get out and leave us alone."

Bobby heard the dark tone and frowned, motioning to the future 'Dean' that leaving might not be a good idea when Sam took the choice out of their hands by shoving hard against the older version of his brother. "Sam, you can't handle him if Dean…"

"Get the fuck out!" Sam's voice broke with this shout, turning back to sit on the edge of the metal bed while he tried to regain control. "Please…just go check on her and…just leave me alone with him."

Ethan was about to complain when his brother shoved him and Castiel out of the panic room. "Go check the store to see if we have a clue about an antidote for this crap or what they nailed the boss with this time while I stay here," Jack urged, deciding it best to clear the house of his less than tactful older sibling.

"Sam, Dean…he'll be fine," Bobby hoped he sounded a lot more confident than this situation had him feeling but frowned when the alternate 'Dean' hung back. "This good?"

"He'll be along and it might be better to have Dean in here with just Sam while I see if I can bring the boss around," the mystic replied, eyes darting to the ceiling as if feeling something but then shrugged it off as leftover effects of his own injuries.

'Dean' stayed silent for a long while before he slowly approached the brothers, kneeling down to carefully lay a hand on Sam's trembling leg and again was shocked when it wasn't brushed aside. "Sammy…Sam, I know this looks bad but don't give up on him…on either of them because while I gave up on my brother too easily my wife never did. I know that your big brother and Morgan wouldn't give up on you," he spoke firmly but dropped the tone to one he hadn't used on his own brother in more than ten years. "Don't let Zachariah and this crap take your family away like it did mine."

Not moving or acknowledging the other man or his comments, Sam remained silent until he heard the heavy door of the panic room shut fully but he knew it wasn't locked since neither the alternate 'Dean' from 2014 or Bobby would be willing to lock it with him inside but for different reasons.

For Bobby, it would be in case Sam couldn't handle the memories of being locked in here while he raged out of control on demon blood since this would be the first time he'd come close to this room since that time. The reasons 'Dean' wouldn't have locked the door were more complicated and Sam wasn't sure to thank him or not.

"Dean?" looking down, he watched to see that his older brother was tensing again so on instinct Sam laid a hand over one bound wrist but winced upon seeing all the unhealed bruises, cuts and burns that marred arms that he'd never once doubted could handle anything laid on the shoulders of their owner. Now he wasn't so certain. "Dean, I hope you can hear me and not whatever the hell voices or images are running loose in your head because…I guess I just wanted to say…I'm…sorry."

Letting his eyes roam the Panic Room rather than stay focused on his brother, Sam slowly let out a breath even as he felt the arm under his hand going rigid as Dean's body tensed more in response to whatever images or sounds he was hearing.

"I suppose I should've said this awhile ago considering some of the crap I've put you through but…" the younger hunter struggled to keep his voice from breaking since he knew that under normal circumstances Dean would never let him live down what was sure to be a 'chick-flick moment'. "I'm sorry that you were put through everything that you have been in our lives. I'm sorry that you lost so much of yours trying to take care of me, I'm sorry that Dad treated you so bad or that he beat you so often because you felt like you had to shield me from him but I guess what I'm sorriest for is…what happened to you in Hell."

Sam shifted the amulet through his fingers while remembering the night he gave it to his older brother, blinking the burning out of his eyes as his mind raced to find a way to fix this without anyone else he loved being hurt and only coming up with one way. "Morgan needs you, Dean, so you need to wake up. I…I need you but I guess I can't blame you for how you feel about me. I wish you would've told me why you gave in…then maybe I would've understood more how you reacted after you came back."

Uncertain if his brother was hearing him or not, Sam bit his lip in a way that he hadn't in years but kept his gaze locked on Dean's face as if looking for some sign of recognition but only saw his facial muscles twitching as Dean's unconscious mind fought what only he could see. "A lot of things are my fault, Dean…the least of which is you being hurt right now since I fell for what was so clearly a trap. This has both you and Morg hurt but I'm not letting anyone kill you because I know you can get over this. I'll fix it. I'll fix this because it's all I can do to try to make up for all the stuff you've given up and done for me all my life."

"You'll be pissed at me when you wake up, Dean," Sam knew this but also knew this was his only option to save both his brother and friend. "I know you probably can't hear me but I hope you'll know that I'm doing this to stop all the pain. To save you because you've always been the role model for me and considering the hell that you've literally gone through for me this is the least that I can do," he decided, removing his keys and wallet to lay them aside while hastily scrawling a note to explain his actions to not only Bobby but also future Dean. "From the first moment I can remember you were who I've looked up to and all I wanted was to make you proud of me. I am so sorry that you lost so much because of me and I hope that you can forgive me someday and that you can still find the life that Mom would've wanted for you."

Oblivious to the tears that had fallen, Sam took a shaky breath before giving Dean's hand a final squeeze and almost believing he'd felt a response but shrugged that away as wishful thinking. "No matter what else I hope you'll know that I'll…always look up to you and…love you. Stay away after this, Dean and…let me go."

The final words were whisper soft as Sam was careful when he placed both the heart necklace and the amulet into his brother's clenching fingers and closed them tightly before letting his eyes rest on Dean's face a final time before leaving the basement thru the outer door that took him out to the yard where his tired eyes landed on the Impala.

Running a trembling hand over the car's hood for a final time, Sam smiled as he remembered the times, both good and bad, that he'd spent in what he'd always consider his only true home. "Take care of them," he whispered to the car before taking a deep breath and doing the one thing that he'd sworn never to do but to save his brother he knew it had to be done. "Lucifer…I'm…ready."

TBC

**Author Note: **_I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter which even I know is extreme. My Mom's illness has kept me from writing anything so I am slowly getting back into it and am hoping to have this one completed soon…along with some more single tales. Thank you all for your patience and stay tuned to see what Sam's up to and to see if Dean recovers._


	12. Chapter 12

**Mirror Images**

Chapter Twelve

**Upstairs, Bobby Singer's Home:**

While Sam Winchester was below making a choice that could very well have disastrous results for not only his life but the very world, things had begun to happen upstairs that would've had Bobby Singer pulling his beard out if he'd known.

Pain filled horrific memories were still clear as Morgan's mind slowly began coming to. She dimly recalled the agony that had been caused in Texas at the hands of her friend. She could still feel the feel of the straps keeping her pinned to that damn rack but what brought her back to nearly full awareness was the vivid memory of the sneering Angel enforcer encouraging Dean's use of his knife on her skin and feeling it slash against her stomach.

"…Nooo…" gasping as pain rippled all over, she struggled to bury the scream that wanted to come when she tried to sit up too fast to escape the images flashing in her mind.

Memories coming too fast, the young woman could recall in total detail recent events so the terror building when her right arm seemed not to want to move after being drugged again and the way her eyes seemed to blur didn't come as a shock. What was surprising was the softly glowing form standing close to the bed she found herself in.

"Where…?" looking around too quickly, Morgan felt her stomach flip in both pain and shock and was forced to let herself fall back to slow her breathing while she rubbed her eyes to try to clear them.

She knew on some deeper instinct where she was so Morgan's larger worry was that this was real and not some Angel induced hallucination that Zachariah was famous for. As the pain slowly eased, other thoughts began coming back…such as her worry about Sam and what was happening but before those worries could force her to try to get up again a voice spoke from beside her. A voice that she knew but knew couldn't be possible.

"Hello, Morgan."

Between the attack in Massachusetts by the time displaced alternate version of Dean Winchester, to the drugs she'd been hit with…twice, to this more recent, more violent one, Morgan wasn't ready to trust this image that easily so with far more agility than even she was expecting she made a grab for the switchblade that Dean must have left on the nightstand before this whole nightmare started and went to whirl away from what she assumed was either a sick joke, a shapeshifter or any other number of supernatural thing only to feel her legs give out and she feel back onto the bed.

"I see you did pick up a few of Dean's more interesting habits," the voice chuckled in the same deep, almost comforting way that she could remember from years before. "Dean's first instinct upon facing something new was always to go for either silver or Holy water. Yours, as a I recall, was to just pull that damn 9mm you carried and shoot first."

"It's always…worked before," she gritted, ignoring the pain while struggling to focus on the form that was slowly becoming clearer. "If…this is real then you're a really bad fake since Bobby…has too many sigals and stuff on this house to allow anything in."

Nodding, the man's form seem to finally become plain and solid and didn't miss the way her hand shifted the knife. "I'm not a 'shifter or a ghoul, Morgan," he remarked, not going any closer to the bed just then even though he understood his time was limited. "Silver won't really affect a spirit and you haven't quite gotten the strength back yet to get to anything iron so can I just tell you what I was sent for?"

"The knife doesn't have to hurt you, sport. It just has to give me something to use as a focus for…damn!" Morgan's hand dropped the blade when pain shot through her arm at the first attempt to use her powers and once again she recalled the drugs in her system. "Not…real. Has to be another bloody Angel trick or…"

Shaking his head over the stubbornness of today's youth, the spirit of the man slowly sat on Sam's bed but kept a close eye on the young woman who was still showing too many serious injuries for his liking. "The Angels would have no reason or way to use me against you, Morgan," he reminded her. "It was that reason that I came rather than the boy's Mom since Mary was determined to come herself but I figured you'd know me so…"

"Zachariah ripped my memories apart in New Orleans to find out…stuff so he could've found out about…" Morgan gave up on making her eyes focus for the moment and really didn't care at this point if this was a trick by the bald Angel. She hurt too much and the loss of both the link she had with Dean Winchester and the knowledge that she'd probably lost Dean and Sam as well made her too numb to care.

"They wanted your memories of the time you shared with the boys and while I'm certain I came up in the ones you have of that summer they'd have no interest in me otherwise. In fact, I can bring all this mistrust and doubting to a stop real easily since I know the one thing about you that no one except Kelly and a mystic know," the voice of the man seemed sure of this as he waited for her to respond and smiled a little when he caught one blue eye slowly open enough to watch him from under long lashes. "You never told Dean something and it's the one thing that you bury too carefully to be picked up by anyone's surface scanning."

More cautious now, Morgan pushed up on the bed while another feeling was building in the back of her mind that was warning that something was very wrong somewhere. "Like what?" she deadpanned, refusing to show the emotion that wanted to come and also refusing to scowl at the familiar dry look the man gave her.

"Your full name."

"Everyone knows my full name, mate," she countered, trying to shrug but was reminded of the knife cuts on her arms and upper back. "Dean's just wise enough to know not to use it unless he wants…"

"Your full _legal _name, Morgan," the spirit of the man interrupted slowly, stressing the one word she the girl would understand his meaning and wasn't disappointed when he caught the way her body went rigid. "You know, the one that you don't use. The one that only a very few people living even know you have…the one that you never revealed to Dean because that would mean you would've had to have told him how you met…"

Morgan's eyes snapped open fully to lock on her otherworldly visitor's and noticed the wry amusement reflected even as her blood was running cold. She'd been forced to confront a lot of things these past few months that she'd hoped she never would but she never thought that she would ever have to face… "Jim."

"Hello, Morgan," Jim Murphy nodded in greeting as he slowly eased to the edge of the bed that he was sitting on to face the young woman. "We need to talk."

Halfway certain now that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating this, Morgan tried to recall the last time she'd seen the Pastor turned hunter alive since she was well aware that he'd been dead for over five years. He had died at the hands of Meg in a way to hurt John Winchester and his sons and his death had been the one thing that still bothered Morgan.

Jim Murphy had been a hunter and a man of the Lord for a long time before he first encountered the Winchesters and he had fought often with the senior Winchester to make sure Sam and Dean were safe. Unlike many hunters, Jim had understood that there was a shade of gray in the hunting world that meant not everything supernatural or had powers was something to be killed. Though he had a good reason for believing that rule.

"I'm guessing you still haven't told the boys your legal name or how we met?" Jim knew this even before she dropped her gaze and he sighed. "I thought we discussed this. If there was one thing Dean was always curious about is how I knew you or why as a hunter I was so willing to accept you."

"Dean and I just started talking again and I told you the reasons I didn't want to tell them the truth," Morgan shot back then blew out a breath. "Those would be especially true after recent events…not that I have to worry about it considering that Dean's…" she stopped, unaware that her hands had begun to shake as she recalled the events of the Alamo this time and feeling her friend torture her at the orders of…

Jim Murphy's hand shimmered but was able to remain solid enough to touch her wrist in reassurance. "I know you're scared, Morgan. I also know that you're going to be scared of Dean now and that's why they wanted this to happen," he told her softly, noticing that she was reaching up to play with the necklace that he knew Dean had given to her years before but noticed that it was missing. "Your involvement with the boys has changed a lot of things that should've happened to them and you're about the only thing that could alter this whole Lucifer/Michael claiming them as vessels thing."

Hearing Bobby downstairs arguing with someone reminded Jim both of his past life and also that his time was running out since he needed the girl to understand things that she, in her current frame of fear and shock, wouldn't be able to on her own.

"What…Chuck said about not being able to get a gauge on you was true. Your powers make you a wild card in how certain events play out so the Angels needed a way to take you out of this and Zachariah knows that if he makes you hate or fear Dean that he's won because Dean can't recover from this without you and Sam," he explained, seeing that she was at least listening to him. "The drugs in Dean and the damage that was done has hurt him a lot and I'm not saying that recovery will be easy but if you can trust him one more time, trust in what you both had that summer, then you can get to him before he gives in because if Dean gives in to the despair, pain, and loss that he's being made to endure right now then it's over…in more than one way."

Slowly pulling away in order to try to stand again, Morgan bit her lip. "I…I know that it wasn't really Dean who hurt me, Jim…I know that he was seeing someone else but that doesn't mean that it's easy to forget feeling him touch me and hurt…" turning toward the window when a sudden cold feeling made her shiver. "I've been down that path in my life. You can't work in the life that I have without running that risk but knowing that it was Dean who was doing it, was Dean's voice that I heard, was his hands that…"

Memories again came in livid color that she found hard to ignore. Even though her vision had been gone there, her mind could still see or imagine what was happening as both the knife and torch was used but what was the hardest for Morgan to handle wasn't the pain or fear she felt but it was the rare gentle touches that would caress her as his voice seem to whisper reassurances.

"Bloody hell, Jim. It was like at times he wanted to hurt anything he saw then others he was fighting it and I could hear that…thing hurt him but…" she glanced down to see a photo on the dresser that she didn't recognize or remember it being taken since it was when she'd been about nineteen which meant that somehow Dean had gotten it without her knowing how.

"There were a few times that I know of that Caleb said Dean wasn't that far from you," Jim Murphy figured that might cause one hell of a scene between the two later on but right then he had other concerns. "Morgan, I know you're scared but I also know that deep down so is Dean. He had enough self control left that he knew that he had to protect you and Sam the only way he could and that was to block your link. Now, he's got no way back because between the pain they put him through, the memories this has brought back, the drugs and all the other crap going on in his head Dean's lost in his own head.

"Neither of you can fully heal, either mentally or physically, from this until you come to terms with this and you trust each other," the former Pastor went on, stepping up behind her but was careful not to touch his young friend. "To survive this, to keep either Michael or Lucifer from winning you have to try to get Dean to hear you. You have to get him to let you in long enough to find him and bring him out of the darkness and…it would be best if you did this before Sam finishes what he's up to."

Morgan was about to say that none of that would be possible if Dean's mind was too far gone or if his rage was still making him see demons in the form of friends when the last part of that sentence caught her attention. "What…what's Sam up to?" she asked warily, already not liking the odd sense of dread she could feel building since it reminded her of a similar feeling she'd had back in West Virginia but the moment she followed Jim Murphy's gaze out the window to see Sam standing next to the Impala looking lost, afraid but very determined she knew he was up to something. "Jim…what's Sam doing?"

"Sam's found out more things than he should have and he's determined to make this right in the only manner than he knows," Jim replied grimly, looking down at the younger Winchester and once again finding it so hard to believe that he'd grown so much. "Knowing that Dean's hurt, that you're hurt and that too many people want to kill Dean to put him out of this misery…Sam's willing to make a deal," he went on, noticing that Morgan had tensed as those words gelled.

"Make a deal with whom?" she asked while already afraid she knew, seeing a bright light even before she felt the power around the house change. "No."

"Sam's called Lucifer, Morgan. He's going to barter his life in exchange for Lucifer healing you and Dean," Jim winced as the mirror across the room cracked. "Umm, you do know you can't use your powers to that high a level, right?"

Not knowing that her right hand had clenched at the mere thought of this plan, Morgan didn't bother to even reply to that as she swore under her breath about moronic mystics not being able to keep track of one hunter before she reacted in pure instinct. "I am so grounding that kid," she muttered, pocketing the switchblade but grabbing for something else in a bag by the bed that Jack must have placed there. "Go away, Jim. I have to go grab Sammy before he says something stupid…like yes."

"You don't have the power like you normally do," Jim warned even though he expected the eye roll he got in return. "Well, I see where Sam got that," he mused, reaching out for her arm one final time even though he felt her tense at the touch. "You know, no matter what else, I am proud of you kids. I took care of those boys enough to care for them like my own so I guess I can honestly say that as a Father…I'm proud of the people all three of my kids grew up to be," he paused a second when he caught the way her lips thinned. "Morgan…you need to tell Dean the truth about your past. You need to be honest with him about me because the kid I remember him being won't react in the way you're afraid of."

"After everything else, the reaction to that little secret doesn't seem too important right now, Jim," Morgan whispered, surprised at the wetness she felt when she blinked and looked back into the fading face of her long time friend. "I swore that I'd never tell anyone the truth about my past and I knew that night when I first met Dean that I'd never tell him how I met you because while I can deal with his reactions to a lot of things…I don't think I could take losing him or Sam over that. Now go away so I can go grab Sam and kick mystic butt for letting him do this."

Sighing to the now silent room, Jim Murphy's spirit let his gaze spread over the room before making a choice of his own even as he heard things slam downstairs. "Stubborn kids. I kept that secret before because of what happened with John, little girl. I can't do it any longer," he decided, hoping this wasn't a mistake as he took what time he had left in the real world to appear in the Panic Room and gazed at the semi-conscious but still inwardly struggling Dean Winchester. "Dean, I stayed out of your and Morgan's problems because I loved you both but this time…it's time we talked and I pray some part of you hears me because it's going to take all of you to save the world…assuming she doesn't break your brother's neck for this plan of his."

**The Library:**

"One of you idjits had better come up with a damn antidote or something to fix that boy before I decide which one of you to shoot!" Bobby Singer had slapped a heavy leather bound book down on his desk before rolling behind it to begin scanning the pages. "Between the three of you there has to be a lick of sense floating around."

Before Castiel could think of a response to that obvious insult, Jack MacShayne slapped at him with an open hand even as he was watching the now grim faced future version of Dean Winchester slump into a chair.

"Leaving Sam a good idea?" he asked, noticing that the man was becoming more quiet and withdrawn, which warned him to watch closer since he knew the moment a Winchester got quiet bad things happened.

"Right now I don't think Sam wants any of us around Dean so yeah. Just give the kid some space, let him vent…especially since he's asking about Dean's time in Hell," 'Dean' replied, feeling more tired and emotionally wrecked than he could recall in years. "As for Bobby's opinion, the drugs and crap that Dean's suffered here aren't like what I coped with so I'm out as far as miracle cures goes. Sorry."

Bobby could honestly say that he actually believed the kid meant it when he apologized but that didn't mean he was willing to let the Angel or the mystic off the hook. "Fine, you two have access to books and stuff from the time of Noah so go pull something out of the magic hat. Just _**FIX**_ that boy!"

"Singer, I have access to stuff that shouldn't see the light of day again but even then I can't be sure what the hell Zach used on Dean," Jack snapped, knowing if he couldn't pull off a cure or something soon that he'd have hell to more in more than one way. "No one expected Zachariah or Michael, if he knew about this, to pull this stunt so until I get more details or a blood sample then…Boss?"

The sharp static of power warned Jack of the impending power charge that took out a glass lampshade on the wall by his left ear a second before it imploded and he was moving before she had a second chance to nail him. "What the hell?"

Castiel had whirled at the first sign of danger but before he could move or before Bobby could reach for his shotgun, 'Dean' was shoving to his feet to go to grab the arm of a highly upset young woman only to have his fingers shoved back.

"You I don't expect much from since there's no way Sam would trust you…though I'd've thought you would have at least known to suspect what Sammy would try to do," Morgan snapped, struggling not to weave as she finally managed to get downstairs and headed for the front door but paused long enough to toss Jack a quick jab. "The rest of you, especially the dork in the coat and Bobby, should know Sam well enough to know that you do not leave a Winchester alone to brood and think when he's self-destructing!"

Bobby had wheeled out from behind his desk while hoping Castiel knew enough by now to stay quiet even as Jack and 'Dean' were trying to rein Morgan in. "What woke her up and pissed her off since I know both of you were here with me?" he called, taking a quick look out the window when he noticed Sam. "Hey, what's Sam doing outside if he's supposed to be in the Panic Room with Dean?"

"He's where?" Jack was frowning even as future 'Dean' suddenly let out a low growl and then cursed loudly before bolting for the door just as Morgan reached it. "What the hell…"

"Goddamn it!" 'Dean' snarled, knowing he should have expected this stunt but honestly didn't think this version of Sam would try the same thing as his own brother had so long ago. "He's calling Lucifer! He's making a deal to save his brother…just like my brother tried to do."

Jack blinked at that news while Bobby began swearing about mule headed Winchesters who were going to drive him to drink long before anything else did.

"Calling Lucifer won't save Dean," Castiel argued, blinking when Bobby hit him in the arm before dragging him along behind him. "I fail to see why Sam would think that it would."

"Because Sam's a wonderfully sweet but naïve as hell bloody idiot who's only trying to save Dean," Morgan snapped, feeling the pain burning her veins and knowing she was risking a full blown seizure by using her powers but not caring when her only concern was for… "Sammy!"

**Outside of Bobby's House:**

"Lucifer…I'm ready."

The mere words made him sick but the memory of hearing his brother scream and fight against images and sounds only he could see and hear along with knowing the truth of Dean's time in Hell was worse so Sam took a shaky breath and wondered how long he'd have to wait before…

"Hello, Sam. This is…a surprise."

The voice was one that Sam Winchester knew he'd never forget since he'd been hearing it in his dreams on and off since the first night the Devil had come to him.

Lucifer's current vessel, Nick, hadn't healed very much since the last time he'd been around the Winchesters in West Virginia and a fight with Ethan MacShayne had hastened the vessel's collapse. Now the slender looking man's gaunt features seemed even more so though he still was holding up well considering the power residing inside him.

Now though Lucifer stood a few feet away from Sam to gaze at him curiously. Cocking his head to one like humans often did when examining something odd he waited a couple seconds before taking a step forward. "After our last meeting I wasn't expecting you to call me this soon…or at all to be honest. What's changed?"

Taking a glance back to the house, Sam swallowed the lump that had formed since he fully understood how pissed his brother would be over this plan. "Do you know what's been happening?" he asked as he finally met the gentle, almost understanding eyes of the other man. "Do you know what Zachariah's been up to?"

The merest mention of the bald Angel told Lucifer that something had happened that was serious enough to make the boy call on him and since he had promised never to lie he took his time to reply. "While Zachariah's more Michael's boy I do have ways to keep tabs on what's happening so…yes, Sam. I know what Zachariah did," he acknowledged grimly, stepping closer until he was just within an arm's length from his true vessel. "I know that he brought back a future version of Dean, I know that he had him try to kill your little friend while kidnapping Dean and I know what he probably had him do to her in Texas. Is this the reason you've finally called on me, Sam?" he asked mildly.

"I…I don't have full memory of what happened in West Virginia to me," Sam began quietly, his eyes looking into the Impala's backseat at the little Army man stuck in the ashtray as if trying to draw strength from the memory of the day it was put there. "But, I do recall some. Jack says and you've said that you need my permission to take my body as your vessel."

"Yes, that is a somewhat annoying drawback to gaining a vessel," Lucifer sighed, smiling slightly while looking around the junkyard. "The official, legal way for an Angel or Archangel to gain a vessel is that we need full permission from a conscious and aware body which is why I couldn't take you in that place. Huh, it's strange that I'm the one playing by the rules while my Father's golden child, while Michael, is more than willing to take his by any means necessary," he mused, wondering how the roles could have become so reversed. "You could get the long winded version from either of my nephews, Sam…but I have the feeling that there's more to this than that. What do you want from me?"

"I want my brother healed."

Words that seemed so simple to Sam had Lucifer blinking in surprise since of all the things that he could've been expecting the young man to say that was hardly it and he wasn't expecting it said so matter of factly.

"Well, you've been considering this for a long while or…you're jumping at a last shot," he decided, not able to get a better feel for the situation since the house was off limits to him at the moment. "Tell me what you're looking for in detail and I'll tell you if I can give it to you."

"You raised the four Horsemen, you were only second in power to Michael himself so we both know you can give me what I want," Sam laughed dryly, no longer caring if he was hurt by his flippant tone.

Not liking the boy's new attitude or his sudden desperation to surrender, Lucifer nodded slowly. "True, then the question becomes why should I give you anything?"

"Because I'm what you need to survive long enough to win against Michael and I won't say 'yes' unless you do what I ask first," Sam shot back, fists clenching in impatience since in his head he could hear his brother's ragged screams begin again in the locked Panic Room. "Do you want that or…"

"Tell me what you want, Sam," Lucifer muttered, not happy about being backed into a corner like this but he had to admit that he was impressed with the boys' guts and the courage it took to call on him. "Healing Dean can't be your only concern."

It had been when he'd first come up with this last ditch plan but then after he'd recalled some of the things the older version of his brother had revealed about his own life and timeline he understood that just healing Dean wouldn't be enough if he couldn't offer some type of protection.

"Zachariah hurt Dean a lot and Cas and Jack are saying that once the drugs are out of his system that it's over. That my brother's brain dead or something," he began slowly, hating to even repeat those words much less think it. "I…I know that if he's given a chance or if Morgan was well enough after what happened to help him that he'd be fine but after what's happened to them neither one are going to be that quick to open up to the other again."

"So Zach figured out that to take the little wild card out of the game all he had to do was turn Dean's darker side loose and extinguish the link they shared which Dean would do in order to keep her safe to begin with," Lucifer nodded, easily understanding the Angel's desire since he also knew the risk Morgan Harrison played to the overall game plan. "Good plan if a little sloppy considering all the loose ends that've been left but you were saying?"

Scowling at the Devil, Sam kicked at the dirt much like he once had as a child. "_Anyway, _I'm tired of seeing the people I love hurt because of me…over me, so here's my offer…I agree to say yes to you but only after you've healed both my brother and Morgan of everything that's happened to them this time. All the drugs, the wounds, the pain, etc…you heal it all, take the memories away that'll hurt 'em or keep them from being happy and…" he paused a beat to push back emotions he thought that he'd buried before doing this. "And promise me that they'll always be safe, that they and any possible little Winchesters will never be harmed and I'll…say…yes."

"You're looking to avoid the life that the future version of Dean had even though you're aware that his timeline has, more than likely, already been changed by this event," Lucifer could see the long term goals in Sam's plan and respected the boy for them even if knew they were folly. "You realize that even if I heal your brother that he won't let you go that easily and neither will the witch?" he honestly wondered if Sam had thought that far ahead when the boy's next words shocked even him.

"Yeah, I know that," Sam admitted with a tired sigh, closing his eyes against the pain in his heart. "Which is why you're going to make them forget me. Let them think I left in the night or something. Let Dean remember a huge fight over all my failures and betrayals…just make him think I've left and we'll cross the eventual outcome of them finding out the truth as it comes."

Lucifer had to admit that he'd heard some wild plans in his life but this one of Sam's was really shocking him. Though what was more shocking to him was his reluctance to actually do this. "Sam, healing wounds and altering a few memories is one thing but forging new ones that will require a lot of energy and then I can't promise it would work since I'm not certain if the girl's own powers would accept mine," he remarked seriously, seeing the pain in Sam's eyes even as he felt something else. "I…can try."

"At least heal them from all this crap and…I just want Dean and Morgan to be happy for once and not worry about me," Sam struggled to express that to Lucifer who he knew probably wouldn't understand those emotions. "I want to do what's right for them for once and if I can keep them safe from Michael, Zachariah and everything then I'll do that. Can…you do that?"

While Jack and Ethan had made it next to impossible for him to get into Sam's head, it was still easy for him to read the young hunter's emotions and since Sam always wore his on his sleeve Lucifer could easily tell what had really caused Sam's sudden desire to protect those he care for and as someone who had once been an older brother he could understand.

He recalled Gabriel's urgent desire to always keep the peace between him and Michael before it all exploded and he was cast out so he knew by Sam's eyes that he'd finally learned the one thing that Dean had been trying to keep hidden.

"Zachariah told you why Dean gave in to Alastair," he sighed, feeling like Nick's head could implode with a sudden unexplainable anger at the bald Angel. "Sam, is that why…"

"I don't want him to hate me anymore for that!" Sam snapped, moving quickly to grab Nick's shirt in his fists. "I just want to do one good thing for him. He gave up everything for me, he lost his chance at happiness for me, and he lost so much more while in Hell for me! You want a vessel and I want my brother to be whole so just do this!"

Being careful not to hurt Sam when he freed his shirt, Lucifer took a long time to consider this request. While it was true that Sam was offering of his own free will, it could be argued that the boy's own injuries and emotions were clouding his judgment. A fact that his nephews would call on if the need came up. Yet, he knew that this could all be ended by that time if he took Sam up on his offer and it would only take a small portion of his power to grant the boy his requests.

"Fine, I can heal Dean but the girl is something else since her power naturally repels me," he told him grimly, then explained the loophole to that. "Once you're my vessel, you can heal her before her powers can realize that it's my power since a portion of your mind would retain control."

Wary about this, Sam's more intense need to protect those he cared for overrode his common sense that was screaming that this was a bad plan so with a final thought sent to the house that he hoped Morgan would pick up and understand, he blew out a breath. "Fine, get this over with then," he whispered, sure that he heard something or someone scream in his head but he was more fixated on Lucifer's grim eyes. "Just keep your promise."

"I'll keep mine, Sam," Lucifer assured him tightly, hating to waste time but needing to do this right to avoid hassles in the future. "I need you to actually say the word, Sam."

Rolling his eyes in what his brother would call a typical bitchface eye roll, Sam sighed and was about to open his mouth to say the word that would change his life but save the brother he'd been looking up to since he was six months old when a series of things all seemed to happen at once.

The sound of Bobby's front door slamming open was like a shot in Sam's ears but before he could move a bright light flashed and he knew this was it and Lucifer was claiming him as his vessel. 'I'm sorry, Dean,' he thought to himself, bracing for the pain he guessed this would bring when he gasped as the light seemed to grow around and he felt himself falling into…

TBC

**Author Notes: **_I know, I know. Even after so long I can still cause cliffhangers…this is where I laugh evilly. Will Lucifer claim Sam or what's happening? So many questions left to answer not to mention the worry if Dean will get over this. Come back soon._


	13. Chapter 13

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Thirteen**

When Sam Winchester's eyes started to clear from the wave of light that made him believe he was about to be worn by Lucifer he was forced to blink from more than just leftover spots.

Nick, the Devil's current vessel, seemed to have been tossed a good six feet away from Sam and was actually bleeding from the nose.

It took several moments to regain his thoughts and in that time Sam realized that the Devil hadn't moved. It appeared that Sam had moved and as his stomach twisted from the sudden move a strong set of hands gripped his upper arms to keep him standing but also told him what must be happening.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, you are about to find out that there is someone who can kick your ass a lot harder than your big brother because you have so pissed her off with this stunt," 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 chided gently while making certain that his grip was tight enough to keep Sam still but not hurt the kid more than he had been recently, especially when he had a strong hunch that Sam wouldn't want to be touched unexpectedly or restrained.

"Morgan…" Sam whispered, seeing his friend had put herself between where she had clearly put Sam and where Lucifer was once again rising to his feet and there was no mistaking the anger on Lucifer's face. "No, why's she…she can't…damn it…" struggling to free his arm, he fought the tight hold the older, harder version of his brother kept on him. "She's still hurt! Let me go before…"

'Dean' only shook his head and kept his hold on the younger man. "Jack's around but Sam that plan of yours just wasn't happening and I hope you know that because no matter what he promised, what he said, Lucifer would not have given you what you wanted the way you wanted it," he told him quietly, recalling now what his own wife must have felt when his brother had attempted a similar act. "I know he says he'd never lie to you but he's still the goddamn Devil, Sam and he, like Zachariah, like Michael, like any Angel know that Dean and Morgan are the two things that will keep you free."

Still furious that Sam had managed to even get this far in his plan to offer himself up to Lucifer in exchange for Dean being healed, Morgan had reacted on pure instinct upon slamming open the front door just in time to see Sam about ready to give himself over to the Devil.

Not taking into consideration her current power levels or the risk to herself if this backfired, her first move was to put Sam someplace where he couldn't be touched or hurt.

Using the power to teleport had always been a costly one even when she was healthy so she wasn't surprised when everything seemed to blur after it was over but her emotions would hopefully keep her moving as she stormed past 'Dean' even as Jack was already shouting for his brother and telling Castiel to keep Bobby in the house.

"I'm giving you a shot to get your icy ass outta here, mate before we test if I do have the power Jack says I do," she snapped, feeling her left leg nearly buckle but was determined not to let that weakness show but had a bad feeling by the way Lucifer smiled tightly that he already knew her powers weren't at the same level as before.

"I will admit that perhaps Zachariah had the right idea in his desire to take you out of this picture since you do tend to interfere at the worst possible times, little witch," he mused, glancing at the blood on the back of his hand and hated to admit that he'd always hated to bleed. "Sam called me," he chose to inform her, looking over toward the front steps where the 'Dean' from 2014 was still keeping a tight hold on Sam. "He was willing to offer the greatest sacrifice for you and his brother.

"I could've healed Dean as Sam had asked but thanks your interference his brother will die a mindless vegetable or stay in agony since I'm sure Zachariah would've used the most painful and ancient drugs he had access to.

"Sam's guilt will eventually destroy him because that was the main reason neither you nor Dean wanted him to learn the truth of what really happened to Dean in Hell so I will gain my vessel but the question is will you take Michael's away before he gains access to Dean since Michael doesn't care about getting his vessel the proper way," he went on grimly, pleased to see a flash of what he thought was doubt cross over the young British woman's face a second before her blue eyes slit to cobalt and he was slammed into a nearby junk.

Morgan heard Sam shout but she could also still hear another voice in her mind. She could hear Dean's ragged shouts coming from the Panic Room and she could hear the memories of hearing him scream while in Hell. The thought that Sam had been told in the most callous way about way Dean had finally given in while in the Pit made her sick, then furious.

She'd be the first to admit that she was fighting the pain of wounds she wished she could forget how she got and she knew that both she and Dean would be fighting inner demons to get through this but she'd be damned if she'd allow either Devil or Angel to use Sam's own self doubt and guilt to force him to do something like this.

"Sam's not thinking clearly because if he was then he'd know that Dean doesn't hate him for what happened in Hell or for anything else," she hissed, feeling the veins in her right arm sear but fought it to launch a weak blast of energy from her fingers toward Lucifer only to curse when he easily sidestepped it. "You won't take him like that because in the end you know that neither Dean nor I would quit until Sam was free and you were burning to ash along with Michael."

Nodding, Lucifer knew this to be true and he had to admire the girl's strength of will since even he could tell how badly hurt she really was but that didn't mean he was willing to just give up so easily when he'd been within an inch of gaining his one true vessel.

"That is true though what good will you be to either Sam or Dean if I rip your heart out of your chest?" he asked calmly, waving a hand to move himself quickly to attack only to find himself jerked back. "Jack…"

"Quoting the rules that you're so clearly willing to obey even when the actual Angels of the Lord aren't…" Jack MacShayne had about burned up what energy he'd gained back to call on this spell but was thrilled when it actually worked and his friend didn't get her heart ripped out. "Even though Sam clearly called on you himself, he's also an emotional basket case and therefore not fully able to give permission to be a vessel," he smirked at his now furious relative. "Just go back to whatever icy rock you crawled out from under and wait your turn. I'm sure it'll be your time to pull some equally cruel and stupid stunt on the Winchesters soon enough."

Lucifer considered the odds. He knew Sam's actions were based on his emotions and if he attacked the girl now then he'd lose Sam but it was the warning that was clearly shown in the future 'Dean's' eyes that honestly made him back off…if only to see how this tragedy played out in the end. "I told you once that you can't always protect them, Jack. Michael will gain control of Dean's body one way or the other and if that happens you know as well as I do that what she endured in San Antonio will be nothing compared to what she will feel at his hands."

"Get the hell outta here before I do let that old man take a shot at you with his damn shotgun," Jack groaned, already turning away to move toward Morgan even as he felt the slight pop in the air that signified Lucifer's departure. 'Now the fun really starts,' he thought to himself, reaching out a wary hand. "Boss, give the kid a chance to explain why he thought this was a good plan _before_ you slap him."

The words were heard but by this point Morgan knew she was staying upright by true force of will and accepted that she needed to do things before either her system crashed or the interacting drugs on top of the still serious wounds killed her.

"Block this place from that bloke, Jack," she muttered wearily, waving a hand back at the now grumbling mystic while heading back to the house when she felt the first sign that something was wrong. "Sammy…"

Hating to be held or restrained, Sam struggled to free himself of the hands that had been keeping him still. "Get offa me," he snapped, finally able to make the older 'Dean' let go and he shot off the porch toward his friend. "I had it under control. He would've healed…"

"Sam, you are so goddamn bloody grounded for this stunt it isn't even funny and don't start shooting crap at me about having it under control because you so did not," Morgan shot back, more scared for the younger Winchester than truly angry.

Not that she planned on letting him know that just then. "Between ghosts showing up in my room, feeling like I was run over by a haunted tank or something and then you pulling this…I think it would be easier to just crawl into a hole and…whoa…bloody hell."

'Dean' had remained on the porch after Sam broke free because he understood that while the boy didn't trust him anymore than he had before, Morgan would have more serious problems since he could very well just remind her of feeling the Dean of this time hurting her in the Alamo.

Leaning against the porch post, his gaze had just begun to shift back to see where Bobby was when something from the corner of his eye made his look again and swear. "Shit…Morgan!" he yelled the moment he noticed how pale she went in a mere flash and saw her leg go out from under her.

"Hey," Sam had almost been to his friend when he caught the same reactions that the other 'Dean' had. His inner instincts warned him to move and he had just taken two quick steps that allowed him grab Morgan before she could fall. "Easy. You shouldn't have used your powers or be out of bed," he told her softly, not surprised when he felt her shaking slightly but was surprised when he noticed blood trailing from her nose. "I'm taking you back inside. It'll be fine. I…I…just wanted to do the right thing for once."

Reaching up to lightly slap the younger man in the back of his head, Morgan rolled her eyes and let Sam lift her up which was another tell to just how bad she was feeling. "Sammy, giving yourself to the Devil would not be the right thing for anyone. Dean would not want to be healed that way and there would always be a catch," she told him, briefly meeting the eyes of the other 'Dean' but looking away after a moment. "We…we'll make Dean better and then he can lecture you on your brief lapse of braincells."

"Dean'll do a helluva lot more than just lecture," Bobby growled, shaking his head as Sam walked back into the library. "He'll probably kick your ass clear to the county line. I swear, if you boys don't stop trying to sacrifice yourself for the other I'm going to start tanning your hides."

"Not advisable," Morgan murmured, wincing as she was laid on the sofa seat with Sam sitting beside her as if he was now worried about her slipping back into unconsciousness or something worse. "Hey, by the way, I thought this place was shielded against ghosts."

'Dean' arched an eyebrow much like his present day self would be interested in something while Bobby's scowl turned darker. "It is and has been since that damn mess with the Witnesses," the junkyard owner turned hunter growled, hating to even ask his next question. "Why?"

Morgan hissed as pain was slowly beginning to spread again and her eyes wanted to close rather than focus when the older man's question dawned on her. "Oh, cause I hated being lectured by Jim when he was alive but it's a huge pain in the bloody ass when he's dead…though he did say that he was proud of you and Dean, Sammy," she recalled the conversation upstairs with the former Pastor while batting away a hand that was trying to examine the slash on her arm. "Back off."

"You saw Pastor Jim?" Sam wasn't certain if she had or if her wounds and the shock and drugs might be making her see things but something by the way Jack was frowning made him lean toward the visit being real. "Why? I mean, why would Jim come now not why would he show himself to you or…I mean…sorry," he sighed when he realized that question hadn't come out too clear. "Jim was always proud of Dean and you but considering the things I've done I doubt if he'd still be…"

"Considering the differences in the timelines I can't for sure say how some things are but the one damn thing I can say with 100% certainty is that Jim Murphy, either in your time or mine, never lost his faith in you, Sam," 'Dean' replied firmly, moving slowly when he went to kneel beside the sofa in the library so that he didn't startle either Sam or Morgan.

"Jim, in my time, survived Meg and lived until right after the world went to hell. He died shortly after my…wife and a huge part of me always knew that Jim died more of grief since he had such a hard time accepting the loss of his…" a sharp but weak mental slap could be felt and as he lifted his eyes up he caught more than censure in Morgan's tired eyes but also mild panic and he smirked back. "Jim, for all his lecturing and mild preaching, never stopped loving or being proud of you in my time and I can promise that it was probably the same way here."

Sam's hazel eyes lowered to stare at the floor for a long while before lifting to gaze back at Morgan, noticing that she seemed more tense than he'd been expecting even under their extreme circumstances. "What…what did Jim say?" he asked her curiously, missing the silent exchange between his friend and the other 'Dean'. "Did he have any clues how to help Dean or…"

"He just said that Dean's own self had been buried too deep to pull himself out and that…that he needed help before it was too late," she murmured, recalling what else Jim Murphy had said and also what he hadn't said. "The issue is, depending on the state of his mind and what he's seeing it's going to be hard to find his core self, convince it that he's safe and get him to come out of this."

"Actually that's going to be harder than usual," Jack sighed, digging a hard elbow into Castiel's side before he could open his mouth up with what he knew would be coming. "Normally if we had to do a mental walk Morgan could do that or Ethan or I could handle at least the getting in part…this time neither of those options are exactly…accessible."

As Sam frowned and Bobby scowled between them, Morgan bit her lip while shifting on the sofa so that her back wouldn't touch the pillows. She'd understood the subtle hints in Jack's words but knew that neither Sam nor Bobby would. A gentle touch to her hand made her look up into all too familiar green eyes and she felt her breath catch when brutal memories of a torture rack mixed with happier ones.

"Jim knew the same thing that I do. That you won't be able to go into that Panic Room or even get near that kid," he murmured, feeling her try to pull her hand loose but held on carefully since he knew it would make her keep eye contact if nothing else. "When I went down this road, I was hyped on some heavy shit that knocked me outta my head and I was hurt…bad but my wife and brother were the ones who really went through hell since they were the ones locked in that damn room with me," he told them slowly, hating that he had to reopen these wounds but accepting before he met his fate again he'd probably be facing far worse but that he owed these kids this much.

"Sam told me finally after weeks of me badgering him that the reason he almost made the offer that you did outside was because he was tired of seeing Morg go through the pain of having me chained down and screaming or the few times that I'd break free," he felt Sam watching him but it was Morgan's reaction that he needed to gauge because he knew that in the end their Dean's survival would hinge on how she handled things. "I told Sammy earlier that I honestly don't know exactly what happened between my wife and me while they were getting me through what Zachariah's goons did to me and that's true but I do remember two things…things that I never let on that I knew…"

'Dean' lifted his eyes to see Jack eyeing him with caution while Bobby had gone back to the ancient books that both Jack and Castiel had supplied him with. The house had gone quiet except for the now growing sounds coming again from the basement. Sounds that told they were running out of time.

"Like what?" Morgan knew the possibility was high that she really didn't want to know this but also accepted there was a reason that this man was willing to talk about a past that he so tightly guarded. "You've said that your version of me had better control and access to her powers so…"

"Morgan wouldn't turn her powers on me to save her life. She only did once and that was to save Sam," 'Dean' corrected, blowing out a breath before handing her a small snapshot that was taken shortly after this time and even he could still see the wary shadows in 'Morgan's' eyes. "I remember breaking free one time because Sam, God but that kid tried his best to help me, believed I was coming down from the drugs. Morg knew better because she had all but shoved Sam upstairs to shower, which left her alone to handle me when I broke the straps."

'Dean' felt Sam tense as the image came to mind and he began to understand the risks they would be facing. Right then, the man from 2014 was struggling not to show these kids how much this memory was hurting because he could still feel the knife in his hand as he held it at his young wife's throat while raging out of control both physically and emotionally since he also recalled everything he shouted that day but what he remembered the most and what stopped him from finishing the act even as Sam and Bobby struggled to get into the room was what he heard from her.

"I was this close from killing her and I remember Morgan telling me to do it because she'd rather be dead than face it again and she'd be dead before she endured it from me. She wouldn't use her powers against me, not even to stop me from hurting her but she did, maybe without realizing, allow the bond to shove against the black images the drugs made me see. I'm not sure what it was that stopped me but I know I dropped the blade," 'Dean' coughed to cover when his voice shook, glancing down at the feel of a tiny touch of a finger on his hand. "The next time I woke up with any real thought, Sam was sitting next to me and Morg was across the room. He was asking why she hadn't tossed my ass and all I heard her say was 'because he's been hurt enough and I'd rather die than hurt him more'."

He lifted his eyes up to watch Morgan, smiling slightly as he slowly reached up to touch a bruise on her face. "Your boy has been given drugs that have gone way past what I was. He was tortured physically, mentally, and chemically. They twisted his mind inside out, put images and memories inside him that never existed or twisted the ones he did have until he doesn't know what's real and what's not," he began grimly, needing to be sure both she and Sam understood. "Dean, in a lot of ways, is more dangerous than I am because he reacts on basic instincts while I was taught to be more methodical and less emotional. He will lash out and he will kill if he feels he's in danger."

"Hey, Mr. Sunshine!" Bobby snapped, slapping a book closed after he'd heard enough. "You giving a pep talk or talking them out of something?"

"I'm not letting either of them walk into that room thinking that just by getting past Dean's first layer of defenses that it'll be all roses and candycanes!" 'Dean' snapped back, remembering something else but choosing to keep that to himself for the time. "Dean's mental state is reactive so he will be lashing out at anything he sees as a threat and right now he's seeing every goddamn thing as a threat. Drawback is that while he can hurt them, we can't respond without hurting him more and risk killing him."

Sam started to jerk up when a hand shoved him back down. "Genius, I'm not going to argue any of those points since they're true but the fact is that no one can get into Winchester's head right now except for the Angel patrol," Jack chose to point out sourly, pacing away just as a howl of agony was heard. "Because of what he did in San Antonio, Morgan can't or won't go close to him without risking the chance of bringing on the memory rush from Hell…on top of not being able to use those powers because of the drugs she's been hit with," he shot the time alternate 'Dean' a sour look before turning that expression on a silent Castiel. "Thanks to Zach's spells and a nifty sigal that bastard branded on Winchester's thigh bone neither Eth nor I can get into his head or cast the same spell that's kept Lucifer outta Sam's dreams."

"Which means that any Angel could go into my brother's mind so long as he's sleeping and convince him to say yes to Michael," Sam groaned, scrubbing his face in tired frustration and again noticing that Morgan seemed to be staring into space. "You okay?" he asked her softly, surprised when her hand suddenly grabbed onto his to squeeze it tightly. "Morgan? Hey, what's wrong?"

Knowing that the young woman's injuries, which he couldn't get to heal fully, were probably causing her pain Jack didn't immediately react to the concern in Sam's voice until every light in the room seem to flash on before exploding and he was thrown across the room without any warning.

"Shit!" 'Dean' had been paying more attention the moment he heard Sam's concern turn to downright fear only seconds before Morgan's eyes rolled back and the most severe seizure as of yet struck her. "Move, Sam!" he snapped, catching Bobby's eye to motion him to try to get Sam's attention away from his friend because in the overprotective state the boy was in now he'd never allow 'Dean' close to Morgan to help her.

Castiel had gone to see if Jack was moving yet while Bobby Singer did roll over to try to get Sam away only to be ignored.

For Sam, seeing his friend hurt like she had been was one thing but to see the constant pain she was suffering now to knowing that these seizures could be a lasting effect on top of more serious effects because of the Angel drugs were causing him nearly as much panic and anxiety as knowing he was very close to losing his older brother.

"Stop this!" he could tell something was different this time since Morgan's unconscious muscle movements didn't seem like they had been on the other times but the sight of blood coming from her mouth and nose were freaking him out. "Dean, please!"

Whether it was the near panic in Sam's voice or the use of his name when 'Dean' knew the kid had been making the conscious effort not to call him by it, he wasn't certain. All he knew was that the cold detached emotional distance that he'd been trying to maintain cracked.

"Angel, come on. Focus on me," he called, slipping his hands to the back of her neck in order to grip the muscles there like he had been doing before expecting to feel them tight and tense but was surprised to find them loose. "What the hell?"

Tossing a quick look to see that Jack was frowning but Castiel was keeping a safe distance, it only took 'Dean' a few seconds to figure out what was going on and then his casual concern went into shocked anger. Shock that this was even happening and anger at himself for not expecting it. "Cas, get downstairs and calm Dean down…now!" he shouted without looking over to see if the Angel moved or not while he debated with himself on how best to handle this. "Sam!"

Pulling away from the firm grip that Bobby had on his wrist, Sam had been about to kneel down when he found himself grabbed and sat on the sofa seat beside his now violently twisting friend. "What's wrong with her? This isn't like the other seizures so what…" 

"She's not seizing because of the drugs. She's reacting to him," 'Dean' told him, knowing he had two ways to help and just prayed this one worked because he knew the girl wasn't ready for the other yet. "We all thought that the bond was destroyed or buried even though while under Zach's control they were able to force her to feel your brother's pain. Well, I underestimated things…again. Morgan must have felt Dean when he started to come around this time and that damn link reacted and she's not able to handle the full overload," he explained tightly, adding. "Wake her up, Sam. Get her to hear you."

"Just because Morgan can sense me sometimes doesn't mean I can do that," Sam argued, still not sure how the link his friend and brother shared worked or why in West Virginia Morgan could feel him. "You have a leftover connection so why don't you…oh," he stopped when a familiar look of dry disbelief was aimed at him and he understood why the older man wasn't doing what would have been so natural any other time. "You think she'll react badly because of what just happened in Texas."

Simply nodding, 'Dean' knelt down so that he'd still be close but he caught how badly Sam's hands shook as he went to touch Morgan. "She can hear you, Sammy, so just talk to her. Babble about anything, just get her to come back to you," he urged, not liking the way the young woman was beginning to gasp for air. "Damn it. Stay with them!" he snapped, pushing to his feet to head for the basement. "We need to calm him down and fast."

Bobby was torn between wanting to help Sam and Morgan and keeping an eye on the older, more hard version of the older Winchester but knew he'd be better off staying upstairs while shooting the mystic a look that clearly spoke of '_get your ass downstairs, idjit'_.

Sam seemed oblivious to the chaos going on around him as he gently placed his hands on Morgan's shoulders to both try to control her movements and establish some type of physical contact. "Morg, it's Sam. Can you hear me?" he asked, surprised that his voice sounded so shaky.

He'd been dealing with the weird and unnatural since he'd been eight years old and learned the truth of what John Winchester truly did for a living. Sam had handled vengeful spirits, werewolves, shapeshifters, witches, Wendigos, and so much more that he could handle the worst thrown at him with barely any reaction anymore.

So to shake while trying to help his friend reminded him that he hadn't lost all feelings and that made him less fearful that eventually he'd become as jaded as his Father. For Sam, despite everything that's happened to him these past few years, despite the issues that often separated him from Dean, he knew that when he thought of family his brother and Morgan, along with Bobby, would always come to mind first.

"Morgan, I need you to open your eyes and wake up. Dean's afraid and hurt right now and I know you're scared of him, I can't blame you for that considering what they made him do to you but he needs you," he began quietly, wishing he'd thought to bring one item up from the Panic Room when he made a sudden grab for the battered leather jacket laying on the floor. "Yeah, getting him to admit that will be like yanking the teeth of that Yeti Dean salted and burned that summer in Nevada but…he loves you and I can swear that he will hate himself a hell of a lot more than you might."

Not getting a response but noticing that her lips were starting to get a bluish tinge forced Sam to resort to other methods of reaching his friend as both he and Bobby noticed the change in sounds coming from the basement. "I need you to hear me, Morg. I know you're hurt but…I need you," he knelt beside the sofa seat so he'd be closer as he let his eyes close rather than allow Bobby to see the wetness shining in them. "I know that I've been a huge pain in the ass for both you and Dean over the years but I have to hope, considering you keep getting between Lucifer and me, that you still try to protect me. Morg, I'll tell you something that I won't tell my brother…

"I'm scared," Sam whispered, moving his hands down to lightly hold hers while hoping for any type of a response. "I know and I accept that I don't deserve Dean's respect or his trust but being this close to losing him again, even knowing that I was the root of everything bad that happened to him in Hell, I'm scared to death of losing him and having to face this crap alone. I'm…afraid that if we can't heal him or get him to wake up that either Jack or more likely the 'Dean' from the future will…damn it, they're gonna kill him, Morgan and I can't…I can't stop them and…"

Bobby sat nearby in case the younger hunter needed help but a quiet fluttering of wings made him look to the door that Castiel had just appeared in and just the look on the Angel's normally unexpressive face warned him that something was wrong. "What happened?" he demanded lowly, hoping that Sam wouldn't notice the Angel's arrival. "Cas? What's going on downstairs?"

"Bobby…" Castiel had left the Panic Room when it became clear what was soon to happen. Now he was left with the unenviable task of answering the grumpy older man's questions with the hopes of not being blown out of the house. "Dean is not responding well. His emotions and physical injuries are not healing and I can't touch him because of what Zachariah did, the same reasons that Jack cannot. The only way to help him, to keep him from becoming used by Michael, may be to…"

"No!" Sam shot to his feet after having heard just part of the conversation. "He's not killing my brother! I told him that he…"

An unexpected scream from beside him cut both hunters and Angel off guard as Morgan's body seemed to convulse violently one final time before going limp even as candles around the room burnt to their wicks and clocks all began chiming at once.

"What the hell is causing this?" Bobby demanded, afraid he knew but didn't want to voice that when Sam slumped back to the seat as if already knowing the answer. "Damn it."

Shock already close to the surface from his recently healed injuries, fear of what this meant made Sam sick to his stomach as a strange coldness seemed to enter the library and he was forced to face what the outcome in the Panic Room. "Dean…"

**Downstairs in the Panic Room:**

"Y'know, I know I've bitched and moaned to Kel more than a few times about protecting the Winchesters, about why the morons couldn't take care of themselves a bit better…now I'm glad these two don't have powers," Jack MacShayne muttered sourly, trying to decide how he could handle this without making things worse. "This would be really bad if he could do what his brother did while under the demon blood. I'm guessing that you could though."

Sliding a look to where the 'Dean Winchester' of 2014 was standing just outside the Panic Room, the mystic sighed. "I guess I should thank you for not telling Sam and the boss everything that you could've about those things in your life. Deep down, Sam's still expecting his brother to snap on him so I doubt if knowing that would help any."

"While Zach nailed this kid a lot worse than he did me, my reactions to being brought back to the real world both then and right after I got back from Hell have been worse than his so far," 'Dean' admitted, taking a deep breath before stepping inside the one other room in this house that he despised and was actually startled by the memories that hit him. "Morgan's powers were greater in my time and I did lie when I said she didn't use them against me but I won't tell them the only reason she did was to save Sam's life after I stabbed a goddamn knife into his chest thinking he was a demon," he ran a shaking hand along a work table that had been pushed to the side of the room while this time's Dean screamed raggedly and fought the straps that now held him tightly to the bed.

"He's not coming down from this and if he either reached out on instinct for that link or she tried something, the crap in his mind right now will kill Morgan long before we can get him sorted out," Jack knew this and despite his best efforts wasn't really seeing an easy out for them. "I am so going to hate it if your plan turns out to be my only option," he complained darkly, watching the other man carefully. "Plan B?"

'Dean's' green eyes looked weary when he returned the mystic's gaze before dropping to his younger counterpart's pained face as he struggled against not only the straps he felt but the images only he could see. "I remember one brief moment of clarity for me in this room," he began slowly, walking around the bed as if thinking back to his own past and unknowingly clenching his fists. "It was right after I'd tried to kill my baby brother who had stood there and let me stab him because he honestly thought I'd stop myself. I don't remember my wife screaming at me, or her slamming me across the damn room with more anger than I'd seen her use on anyone but Zachariah and I barely recall watching her heal Sam while using more power than she had right then but I do remember with full awareness when I told her to kill me.

"I knew, with total clarity and awareness, what was happening to me and what I had done to the two people I loved more than anything and I wanted it stopped," he shook his head with a dry smile while kneeling beside the bed to see that Dean's hand was still clenched around the amulet and heart necklace. "I begged my wife, the girl I had loved most of my life and who I knew loved me, to kill me before I hurt them again because I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight what was done to me," 'Dean' looked back at Jack seriously before nodding down at the bed. "I hadn't had done to me or did what he has and I wanted to die. Honest answer, Jack. What do you think this kid would want if he could express his honest feelings right now? What do you think he'll say if he remembers what they made him do in that place? Or what they made him do to Morgan or Sammy?"

Jack MacShayne scowled but looked up at the Devil's Trap grate in the ceiling to by himself the time to answer.

He and his friends had been looking after the Winchester boys since Dean had been sixteen. He had seen them both do some really stupid things and he'd certainly bailed their butts out of some bad shit but if there was one thing he couldn't argue with was Dean's strength of will.

Dean, as Jack knew well, was devoted to his family…too devoted in some cases and the mystic understood the question asked since he knew damn good and well that Dean Winchester would be on the guilt trip from Hell times infinity if he ever learned the truth of what he'd been forced to do.

Jack knew that Dean's time in Hell still hurt him so for the boy to know he'd been made to use those very dark skills against someone he loved… "Damn it," he whispered, rubbing his eyes as the bed seemed to shake with Dean's violent struggle to free himself from something only he could see. "He'd probably say the same damn thing," he finally replied, hating this since he knew if he allowed this to happen that his life expectancy would be zero the moment Morgan woke up or Singer found a spell. "If I could get into his head or the boss could, the odds are somewhat better that he'd be healed but…"

"But would Dean be able to even live with himself if he could be healed?" 'Dean' challenged, not liking this since this wasn't what he'd come back to this time to do. "I hated myself for years and still had issues up to the day I died over what happened but this Dean…he hasn't had his emotions ground out. He and Sam, despite it all, are still closer than I was with my brother. Right now, as he is, he's an open book for Michael to grab and if that happens…Sam and Morgan are as good as dead."

"You know that if he dies, your whole timeline will more than likely be wiped out," Jack reminded him carefully, stepping closer to see that Dean's eyes had opened slightly but were dull as a deep burn on his chest began to seep from his struggled. "You will more than likely cease to exist as soon as he stops breathing and nothing will happen. You, your marriage, your…" he stopped at the sharp warning look and sighed. "Your son."

'Dean' did know this and while he had a lot of regrets for things he'd done, the biggest one he had right then, besides ruining this time, was the thought of not ever having that time with those he loved…including the son he'd only held twice. "Yeah, I know," he gritted, making a swipe over his eyes before looking up. "I also know I played into that fat bastard's hands and let this mess happen. I hurt her and got Dean essentially killed which is leaving Sam wide open to the very thing I wanted to stop but I also know what'll happen if Michael gets his vessel. That can't happen, Jack."

"I know, I know," Jack muttered, knowing what would happen if his Uncle gained his vessel. He knew that Sam would go to Lucifer without a doubt and Morgan would willingly give her own life to save the Winchesters or stop the two feuding Archangels. "This is going to suck when she wakes up and…what're you doing?" he asked when a strong hand lightly stopped him from touching the now nearly quiet hunter. "I thought you wanted…"

"It's on me," 'Dean' told him grimly, turning as he knelt on the floor so that he could meet the dull, nearly lifeless eyes of his younger self with a tight smile. "Hey, Dean," he began quietly, slowly unhooking the straps that held the younger man to the bed. "This isn't what was supposed to happen with this trip back and yeah, I know you'd kick my ass back to my time if I had managed to kill Sammy but all I honestly meant to do was give you and her more of a damn chance than what I had."

Seeing that Jack had stepped back in case violence ensued, 'Dean' finished undoing the straps but wasn't surprised when the boy didn't make a move to escape. "Whether or not you can hear me or understand what's happening, I need to tell you a couple things before I do this. You had the best shot of beating all this crap because you had the two greatest things on your side: Sam and Morgan. They love you and despite it all, despite her fear I know that Morg still loves you and will always do that and Sammy will always look up to and idolize you.

"Your life is so different than mine and while you lost all that time with her I think you could've had it so much better and I wish to God I could take back the past week but I can't so all I can do now is stop this and do what I can for you," he went on, reaching into his pocket for the small velvet bag that carried those few items he still treasured to lay it on the bed. "I can't take back what you're seeing, feeling, or reliving, I can't take back what happened to the kids. All I can do is give you what I don't have…peace.

"Cling to that peace, Dean. Fight past all the crap and pain Zach put in you and cling to that one damn memory that's still good…and we won't tell Bobby about it," he suspected what that image would be if the kid could find it as he lightly placed his hands on either side of Dean's bruised, fevered face and made certain they were positioned so he could do this quickly. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered, hating himself and praying that they both could find peace somewhere.

TBC

**Author Note: **_*Ducking* I know, this was evil and cruel and heartwrenching, wasn't it? Can our Dean be saved or is it too late? Will the 'Dean' from 2014 do what it looks like he is? Only time will tell. Come back with the next chapter to see._


	14. Chapter 14

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Hands shaking, the alternate time displaced version of Dean Winchester from the year 2014 was silently making peace with himself over what he was about to do when he felt the nearly imperceptible change in the air of the Panic Room and blew out a disgusted breath. "Sonuvabitch," he muttered to himself only a mere second before a massive wave of wind seemed to blow in, knocking him away from the badly injured, mentally unstable present time Dean. "This could be messy. This isn't what it looks like by the way."

"Really? Well, this is what it looks like and that's me using what power I have right now to kick your bleedin' ass to the next state if you don't get away from him," Morgan Harrison snapped, tired blue eyes flashing in both building power and pain as she let Sam help her stay steady after arriving at the Panic Room just in time to witness what they assumed was the colder, more intense version of Dean about to kill her friend.

Morgan has woken up with a flash of brutal vision and what was like a trillion emotions coursing through her as the link she shared with Dean seemed to fizzle out as fast as it had reasserted itself.

Her body still feeling the effects of San Antonio since even she couldn't explain why neither Angel or mystic could do more than heal enough to keep her from dying of blood loss and shock, she was still fighting whatever had happened upstairs when she caught from Sam what Castiel had said about downstairs and was now on her feet through force of will and pure adrenaline.

"I told you once that you wouldn't kill Sammy, even if he did make that deal with you, but you'll die painfully if you think for one bloody second that I'll let you touch Dean and…" she was furious, not only with the other 'Dean' but also her own mystic who was standing by watching as her friend was nearly murdered. "Jack, assuming I live through this mess, you'd better go on a vacation because I am so not happy with you."

Jack MacShayne had been expecting that but was wise enough to keep silent about it even as 'Dean' was picking himself up from the floor with a curse when he saw what the girl didn't. "Dean, stop!"

Having a moment when the agony searing his body had let up, Dean was able to clear his head enough to realize he could move and reacted on pure driven need to be free, to find and help those he knew were in deadly danger and he didn't care how many demons or Angels he had to kill to do that as he lunged for the open door.

"Dean!" Sam caught the movement at the last second and had just made a move that would put himself in front of Morgan and out of the danger his brother posed in this state when he felt a stiff arm actually push him to one side with a muttered curse about stupid hunters. "No…Morgan don't…"

Having caught the feeling and the sudden movement the moment it happened since her eyes hadn't left those of her friend, Morgan knew plainly from years of watching over Dean what his next move would be the second his drugged out brain realized he wasn't tied down anymore.

She also knew what Sam's next move would be the instant he saw the threat but she knew that Dean posed more of a threat to his little brother and so when Sam went to step in front of her, she used his own momentum to push him to one side and out of the path of Dean's confused rage.

"I'll kill…you all, you sons of…" Dean's voice was hoarse from screaming but his body, being hurt from the brutal abuse suffered at the hands of Zachariah's goons along with the drugs used to take his will and chemically torture him, wasn't as steady or agile as he normally was.

Though as he struggled to fight his way to freedom by reaching to grab the first demon he saw to snap it's neck, a piece of him warned him to stop when the demon he saw caught his arm firmly, slipped a foot behind his ankle and took him down in a way that his inner self cursed at falling for it again. "_Sonuvabitch_," he groaned, his head smacking the floor with enough force that his eyes snapped open with a jerk and he froze, breath catching as his briefly cleared vision allowed him to see… "…Morgan?" he whispered tightly, struggling to stay conscious when he felt a familiar weight press down on him and for some reason, despite his current state of mind, the sight of the silver knife with the carved engravings didn't scare him.

"Hey, Slick," she returned softly, knowing this brief round of clarity wouldn't last long and prayed that she could at least get him to understand one thing before he slipped under again or she did. "This…none of this was your fault and Sammy and I will get you back."

Body aching, veins and blood burning and dark voice screaming at him to fight, to hurt, to kill, Dean was able to make himself lay still while ignoring the blade held an inch from his throat as if inwardly knowing the knife didn't hold a threat to him.

Shifting his eyes which he felt blur for a second before he fought to bring things back into focus, he let them look slightly to the side to see his brother and felt a pang of guilt for the fear he saw reflected in those huge hazel eyes but it was the pain he also recognized that made him pay more attention even as his mind screamed to slip away. "Sammy."

"You'll…be fine soon, De'n," Sam replied quietly, unaware that in his concern for his brother he had used a shortened form of his brother's name, something that others caught immediately…including Dean.

"This…feels worse than…Hell," Dean gritted, fingers digging at the cement floor rather than try to touch the trembling wrist closet to him. "What I…see, remember…is it…is it real?" he managed to get out before groaning, unconsciously twisting only to have the knee that was carefully pressed to the only spot on his bare chest not bruised or burned press harder. His gaze once again lifted to see Morgan's lashes had lowered so he couldn't see her eyes fully, a sure tell sign to him and he let his head bang against the floor in silent anguish.

Fighting to stay clear for a moment longer, Dean struggled to recall his last memories before the burning pain took over and he remembered the last mental link he allowed with Morgan. He also recalled pushing her out of his mind and severing that link so that Zachariah couldn't use or hurt her.

Now, with images of that damn cold, filthy, stench filled room coming at him, he saw things that he wish he didn't while also feeling himself slipping again as the bursts of rage began hitting him furiously and his instincts were to kill but as his fingers curled again he felt the feel of the objects in his hand and he pushed for one more moment.

" 'kay, here's the plan," he whispered tightly, pain clear in his voice but also his eyes as he looked for his brother again to lock gazes fully in a way that Sam evidently recognized because he bit his lower lip but finally nodded in understanding. "I'm…doubting if this will be…a happy ending so…" Dean, even as his mind was trying to go back into the dark images, struggled to keep clearheaded while finally moving his eyes to meet his friend's. "Hey, babe."

Morgan's fingers tightened slightly on the knife handle, not in reaction to a threat but out of instinct since she suspected what would be coming. "Don't," she whispered, blocking the memory of Dean's hand using that blade on her to focus on the green eyes that were watching her and even without the full link they once shared she could read the message those eyes were sending. "I haven't spent fifteen years pulling you out of trouble to let it end like this, Dean. You can get better…you have to…"

"Before or…after I hurt you again?" he countered, slowly moving his right hand up to grasp her wrist but instead of trying to push the blade away he ease it closer and only tightened his grip when she went to jerk it back. "These voices…these images…they're not like…what Alastair caused. I'm barely holding on and you know that. Angel…" he stopped the second he felt her tense, letting his eyes close briefly rather than show the emotions seeing her fear him caused in him. "Zach…can't win. I won't let him…win like this."

"We can find a way to keep that from happening, Dean," Sam dropped next to his friend and brother, making sure that he positioned himself in a way that he could react if Dean lost control. "I know it hurts but you never gave up on me and…"

Dean's other hand suddenly moved to grab Sam's but rather than attack as the others feared he merely gripped it hard as if trying to establish a final connection while feeling movement close to him and not needing to look to know who it was. "This isn't giving up, Sammy. This is…the only way to protect you and Morg from them," he replied in a lower voice, knowing better than anyone how this would be handled by either his overly emotional kid brother and his friend and wishing he could protect them from this pain as well. "I…can feel them in my head. I can hear Zachariah and the drugs make it so easy to want to give in…to want to hurt…you and I can't fight that for much longer."

"You won't have to. You just have to fight it until I can get enough power back to find that bond and heal you," Morgan argued, fear over what Dean wasn't saying was stronger than the inward fear of the memories. "It might involve a little mental side trip but…Dean?"

This time when he tightened his grip on her wrist, she was forced to drop the knife to avoid cutting him but even as Jack was swearing and beginning to move a hand to react the only thing Dean did was ease her hand up in order to press the palm against the side of his face while covering it with his own. It was an old thing between them from back when the summer still offered good things.

"You come into my head and it's a one way trip because I can't promise to be able to protect you and that fat…Zach knows he can trap you there and if he kills you inside an astral image…" he knew she understood the rest and risk but it wasn't what he was willing to risk. "Take care of Sam," he told her softly, not sure if the sudden wetness he felt drop on his face was from his own eyes or from Morgan when he felt Sam move and he pulled him back. "No deal, Sammy. You let me go this time, you stay with her and I swear if you think of going to Lucifer I will so come back and kick your ass."

Fighting to keep from breaking in front of the others, Sam found it hard to speak when he felt his brother press the amulet and necklace into his hand. "Tried that…Morg says you get to lecture me," he managed to get out with a shaky laugh, seeing the haze come over his brother's eyes for a brief moment and clear as they once again met in a way only he and Dean would understand. "Dean…I'm…"

"Don't…touch my radio, Sammy," Dean cut him off almost as if he knew what his younger brother was going to say. "Remember the rule when I'm not around?" his voice was getting gruffer, more hoarse as the pain began to hit him again and he knew time was running out.

At first Sam was clueless until he saw Morgan offer a shaky smile and he laughed, recalling the summer he'd been twelve and the main rule his brother had set out. "Morgan's in charge and I have to listen to her like I would you," he nodded, looking up as the 'Dean' from 2014 stepped closer and he met the man's grim eyes in a silent plea. "I sorta stopped listening to you, Dean."

"Yeah, but…she's better…at handling you," Dean returned, giving one final squeeze to Sam's hand before closing his fingers around the two objects he wanted him to have before forcing his eyes to shift and lock on Morgan's blue ones. "Promise?" he asked, knowing she'd understand the unspoken question while he lifted his free hand up to gently brush the knuckles over a bruised cut on her cheek and brushed away the tears he found there while a silent message seemed to pass between them.

"You know I will," she told him, reaching with her other hand to card it through his sweat soaked, blood matted hair and caught the change even before his body seemed to go rigid. "Dean?"

Feeling the pain sear as if he was back on the rack again, the little voices whispering in his head and telling him to go for the knife laying near him but even as those things began to take over another voice, this one more stern and warning, told him to fight it and reach for the two good things he still loved but Dean knew that would only work for a short time and knew he needed this done.

"Get…away," he gritted, dropping Morgan's hand while attempting to push at both her and Sam in order to gain distance in case he did lose it. "Kill me…now!" he snapped, only this time his clouding eyes were locking on his older self as if understanding that he'd be the one to do this. "Get them away from me and kill me before…argh!"

The scream was of pure primal agony and Dean's body seemed to writhe in it even as Sam was pulling Morgan up from the floor and a little away from where his brother now seemed to be fighting his own mind in order to do the one thing he'd always done…protect.

'Dean' had watched the emotional scene the younger man had with Sam and Morgan and it had come to the realization that this younger version was so much different from him because no time in his life, not even in the good times, had he ever been willing to offer that much weakness in front of either his brother or his wife.

Not when they'd been young or before he went to Hell or even as he was begging to die rather than face what Zachariah had done to gain control. He couldn't even remember being willing to show his own wife that much free emotion on the day their son was born.

Looking back to the bed where he'd laid the velvet bag earlier, he could only recall offering emotion like that on a very few occasions and usually only after 'Morgan' had pushed him for it.

Feeling the emotions in the room from a link he was hooked to in his own way, he watched as while Dean struggled to keep from acting on the urges that were more than likely surging over him by now, Sam had kept a careful arm around his friend to keep her from moving or in case he needed to move them both in a hurry but what finally got to the older man was the single tear that finally escaped from hazel eyes.

That was the breaking point that 'Dean' had always had. Aside from never taking it well when his wife was crying or frightened, he'd never been able to stand it when his normally emotional but never willing to show it in front of him little brother cried.

"Okay, that's enough," he growled, jerking the green military jacket off to allow himself free movement as he knelt enough to grab Dean under the arms and proceeded to drag him back to the center of the room where he, after a swift kick to the metal bed, laid him down under the grated Devil's trap in the ceiling. "Jack! Stasis!" he snapped while he looked around the room to quickly access if they had what would be needed.

Seeing Morgan's hand shift in reaction, Jack shook his head quickly but sent a frown the other man's way. "Come again?" he could feel the change coming over Dean and knew the rampages would start anew but wasn't quite certain what he was being asked to do.

"A stasis field, put him in one now," 'Dean' shot back, grabbing a stick of chalk after he'd hastily drawn something on a sheet of paper he'd found and shoved both at the younger Winchester. "Sam, draw this around Dean and do it as of ten minutes ago."

Jack only had a quick glance at the paper that Sam had but knew what it was the second the young hunter began to trace the outline under the Devil's Trap. A snap of his fingers did bring up a thin glowing light around Dean, which he hoped would work as expected. "The stasis field will freeze things it surrounds so you're thinking that by putting Dean inside the field that it'll keep him from going back under too far," he reasoned, seeing Morgan frown while Castiel had appeared with Bobby in the door of the Panic Room. "A good plan, in theory, but without a way to weaken the spells keeping me and Cas out…oh. You son of a bitch, where the hell did you learn that spell?"

"I told you, my wife had opened herself up to a lot of different things," 'Dean' replied, dropping various herbs and other things, including some of Dean's hair, into a small copper pot while considering one of the last things he needed. "Some good, some…not so good. I let her teach me a few little things in the beginning because it made her laugh to see me blow stuff up in my face but after I came back from Hell and it became pretty clear that too many sides were after us, including your kind, then she taught me the more advanced magic."

"Uh-huh," Jack ran his tongue over his teeth while taking that bit of news in and also understanding just how big a risk this man could really be to not only his current charges but also to himself. "That's…um…

unexpected and so could be not good in the long run of this little tragedy," he muttered, praying that Ethan never found this out while scowling when he actually had to strain to hold the stasis spell intact. "Dean's not strong enough to be this big a pain in my ass."

"No, but the drugs in his blood along with everything he's gone through are making him stronger than he normally would be," 'Dean' explained grimly, snatching the velvet bag where it had fallen when he'd shoved the bed he considered it briefly before with a silent apology dropped the smaller band into the bowl to add its strength to what he hoped would be a successful spell. "We have everything that's called for except one thing…blood."

Castiel nearly choked while Bobby let out a cough and Sam merely looked up from where he'd just finished drawing the chalk design. "We're brothers…but my blood won't work will it?"

"I wish it would, but yours won't for the same reason I can't use my own," 'Dean' sighed, noticing that Morgan was still paler than he liked for what he was about to ask of her but also noticed that she was watching this scene intently. "Hell, your blood would be better than mine."

"Sam's blood, despite the detox, still may have the properties of the demon blood," Castiel nodded, understanding to some point even though he was not clearly happy with this spell. "However, even though you are from a future that may or may not happen, you are still a version of Dean so I fail to see why your blood couldn't be…oh…" he stopped as something in the other man's eyes registered and he looked away. "I see. You weren't pulled out before…"

'Dean' lifted his eyes up to meet the Angel's and there was only a darkness reflected in them this time when he shrugged. "No, the you in my time and the Holy rollers didn't pull me out before Alastair and his damn demons did too much damage one time. They wanted me alive to break so imagine emergency triage demon style…including the transfusion part."

"That's why the dark magic is so easy for you," Jack swore under his breath as this day kept getting worse. "When you were brought back though the demon blood should have been purged like…"

"It couldn't be," Morgan spoke up finally, stepping between the older 'Dean' and Sam who had paled at even the thought of his own brother being touched by the stuff. "The demon blood had already bonded with his vital organs. That was why you nearly died after you came back…because your heart was used to the demon blood and…"

Nodding in reply, 'Dean' realized that she knew more than he had counted on. "They had almost as hard a time handling me after I got back as they did after Zach was done with me," he smiled dryly, looking between this time's version of his own late wife and brother. "Because the blood was only to keep me alive, I didn't react to it as Sam has here or as he did that short time in my timeline and most of it was finally weaned out after I needed nearly a full transfusion after what the Angel patrol did.

"A full transfusion will more than likely also be what he'll need to break the drugs loose but as for this spell, the still small amount of demon blood in my blood will effect this spell in a bad way so we need a pure blood offer," 'Dean' finished with a grim expression, his eyes drifting to Morgan then waited.

"You need my blood," she murmured, hearing Sam start to object but guessed she should have seen this coming. "Because of the bond we had and because I've given it to him before."

Bobby's eyes snapped between the young woman and the Winchesters. "Do I really want to ask?"

"Not really," the British woman sighed, seeing Sam frown as he clearly recalled the time in question. "Dean was hurt, the others hadn't gotten to the cabin yet, and I'm his type so it made sense."

"It made sense," the gruffer old man groaned, feeling like banging his head in. "I take it that Jim didn't know that damn part?"

Morgan frowned slightly at the mention of Jim Murphy but she covered it quickly but not before Sam noticed. "Jim didn't know a lot about what happened then, Bobby," she told him quietly, wanting off the one topic that still upset Sam so she decided to throw her unconscious friend to the proverbial wolf. "Of course to be fair, you didn't know half of what really went on under your nose either."

"Oh, my God, I can't believe you did that," Sam groaned, figuring that his brother would be ducking Bobby's frying pan if he ever woke up.

"Sam, I thought I paid you good money that summer to keep me up to date on that that idjit brother of yours was up to outside with Morgan!" Bobby yelled, knowing he should have checked himself.

Sticking his tongue in his cheek to, despite the grave situation and how bad he was feeling, keep himself from chuckling as he tried to keep a straight face. "You did," he agreed then coughed the moment he felt sharp eyes pin him. "I just didn't tell you anything that would get my brother's head smashed in with a skillet."

Deciding she'd slap Sam later for his spying missions, Morgan returned her attention to the other 'Dean' while taking in the chalk sigal and the other items in the bowl. "What's this do?" she asked cautiously, refusing to accept the pain that she still felt even though she knew that certain wounds were risking infection if they didn't begin to heal correctly soon. "I'm guessing it'll help weaken something so that I can reach Dean's mind more easily?"

"The sigal I had Sam draw will both strengthen the spell and also help to shield Dean's mind from any prying Angel/Archangel dreamwalks," 'Dean' explained, sitting the bowl on the floor next to Dean Winchester's prone form while reaching for the knife he kept holstered in his boot but held it carefully the moment he noticed the girl's body go rigid. "Easy, I know you're gonna be scared of knives, especially in my hands after what happened but…you're blood is the only thing that's gonna get us inside his head."

"Us?" Sam repeated, stepping up to automatically place a hand on his friend's back to offer support before remembering the mark that had been carved back there and he felt her jerk. "Shit, sorry…I'm so sorry. I…" he stopped when Morgan caught his hand to keep him from moving away. "If this works…will her wounds and Dean's get healed?"

Jack MacShayne wasn't even certain of that answer so he didn't bother to offer false hope and felt like growling when the other 'Dean' did give a reply.

"A lot of those wounds are going to be affected by trust issues, Sammy," he told him seriously, knowing that Morgan understood what he meant. "Morgan needs to trust Dean fully again in order for most of those to be healed and Dean'll need to let go of the guilt he's going to be carrying before the ones he still has can be healed," he shrugged realistically. "Right now, let's just concentrate on finding Dean's mind and clearing away all those nasty thoughts that are blocking him."

"Easier said than done, mate," Morgan sighed, more used to mental trips but accepting that this one was going to be harder due to her friend's injuries, his lack of trust, the drugs in his blood and so much more. She also knew that it wouldn't be easy due to her own injuries, lack of full power and the fact that a good part of her still feared her friend over what happened recently. "Fine, get it over with."

Taking another look around as if gauging the room's security, 'Dean' finally seemed satisfied enough to sit inside the chalk design while motioning to Sam and Morgan to also sit. "Once inside, this won't be a cakewalk," he warned, knowing that both kids were really too hurt to be doing that but accepting that they didn't have a choice if they wanted to save this time's Dean. "Dean's mind will be fighting for its sanity so the risk is very high that he'll react to us just like he would any other threat. The important thing is to find his core self and get him to understand that he's safe enough to wake up while Bobby, Jack and Cas try to push a blood transfusion that'll hopefully help to dilute the drugs he's been given."

"This going to be as upside down as when we used dreamroot to go into Bobby's head?" Sam asked with a grimace, clearly not caring for a repeat of that experience. "I had nightmares for a damn month after that."

"I'd have nightmares too if I had to see what was actually in this old man's head, Winchester," Jack called easily, ignoring the low snarl he heard aimed his way. "Not that I want to know where you and your brother got a hold of that damn root to begin with since even I have a hard time finding it in this era."

Sam considered a reply to that when he caught the way Morgan was scowling and assumed she already knew how they acquired the rare African root. He also knew she wasn't fond of the late Bela Talbot so decided against mentioning her and instead focused on what the other 'Dean' was up to. "Have you tried this spell before?" he wanted to know, trusting Morgan without question but still had his doubts about trusting the man who had come back to kill him and who still might end up doing that. "Or do I want to ask that?"

"Doubt it, kiddo," 'Dean' returned in the same short tone that Sam recognized as the one his brother would use when not wanting to carry on a conversation. "Now, are we ready to do this before Jack loses that spell or what?"

Taking the knife from him, Morgan looked at it warily for a long moment before releasing a shaky breath and slashing it across her palm. "Do it," she whispered tightly, squeezing her closed fist so that blood would trickle from the cut and into the copper bowl. "Sam, no matter what you see or hear, stay with me."

As the blood fell into the bowl to fill the bottom, 'Dean' considered for one quick moment before removing the wedding band that he'd worn since the day his 'Morgan' had slid it on his hand and dropped it in to join the other he'd already placed inside while beginning the spell that he knew by heart because he had sworn that he would never forget it after what it had nearly cost him.

"He doin' this right?" Bobby asked the current mystic in his house while noticing that both Jack and Castiel were grim faced. "That ain't Enochian, is it?"

"No, it's not and no, I'm not telling you what language it is in," Jack muttered, rubbing the back of his neck to try to push the building pain away that even hearing that language caused him. "This guy so needs to go home and fast. That or I need to find a way to kill him."

Smiling slightly at hearing the mystic's words, 'Dean' knew neither of those things would exactly be easy but decided not to tell him that as he lit a match, said the final incantation and dropped it into the bowl allowing a large puff of smoke to fill the air and hover over the three of them.

"Jack, this doesn't feel…right," Castiel had been watching the spell but now felt something very wrong in the air inside the Panic Room. "Jack, this was a blood ritual and a dark one at that…more blood should've been needed to get…"

"Shit! Boss…" shoving forward from the wall that he'd been leaning against, Jack swore violently while waving a hand to disperse the smoke only to stop dead. "I'm going to guess this wasn't what you were counting on, right?"

'Dean Winchester' from the year 2014 was swearing as well as he redid the spell in his head to see where it had gone wrong because while there were a few things about it that he hadn't told either Sam or Morgan he had fully intended on going inside the astral plane with them.

Now, he sat inside the circle fully conscious and aware while both Morgan and Sam seemed to be unconscious on the floor but the alarming part was that both seemed to be bleeding again and this was just the start of what could be a very long nightmare.

"Damn, this isn't how it was supposed to work," he mumbled to himself, jerking back as the stasis field finally fell which also meant that Dean's mind would continue to downgrade into more violence unless stopped soon. "Morgan isn't strong enough to handle this alone and Sam…I only involved him because…"

"Because the blood spell needed a goddamn sacrifice and Sam was it?" Jack offered tightly, energy flickering on his fingers as he debated blowing the man away now but the alarm in the other set of green eyes stopped him for the moment. "What?"

"No, I involved Sam because I knew Morgan needed emotional support," 'Dean' snapped, hating this as his mind whirled with multiple reasons why this failed when it slowly began to dawn on him and he felt like throwing up. "I was supposed to be the final sacrifice needed to complete the ritual once they found and got Dean back but…damn it, I didn't think he'd figure I'd do this again."

Three sets of hard eyes were on him a moment before Bobby rolled into the Panic Room with his shotgun aimed. "What the hell'd you do, boy?" he demanded angrily, not liking the chill in the air. "You said you cast this spell once before…why?"

"I cast it shortly after I got back from Hell and barely pulled myself, well 'Morg' barely pulled me out of that pit of despair and booze," he scrubbed both hands over his face. "She'd kept it all together while I was gone or so I thought but then after using so much energy to help me, to keep me from killing myself, she was too weak when Sam began falling apart because it was pretty clear to everyone that I blamed my brother for what happened to me.

"In my time, Sam didn't go down the demon blood route until after I got back and told him, in a drunken haze, that I despised him for possibly being the one to bring on the end of the world. Then he went down hard and it was up to 'Morgan' to be the one to help him…only it wasn't that easy," he sighed, dumping the contents of the bowl out to take the rings out in order to make one last ditch effort to fix his mistakes. "Zach and his goons went after Sammy, Morgan had the power to shield him but not herself from the blow. I cast this spell in order to go in to heal the emotional trauma that I didn't know she'd been hiding from me and it nearly cost me both my wife and my brother."

Jack was listening and seeing what he wasn't saying. He could see the bitter fights between loving brothers, both taking a toll on the other but neither had understood that time's Morgan had been taking and absorbing emotional hits for months on top of her own brutal past. It had taken nearly all of Dean's strength to heal her and it had nearly taken Sam's life when he shielded both from a final attack by the Enforcers.

"Zachariah knows you know a spell that could heal Dean's mind, he knows you'd try it to help them and…" he groaned as it hit him. "He put up a Trojan in the spells on Dean so that the moment you cast it, the only ones to go in would be the two he wanted…the two who would be too weak to handle a full frontal mental assault since in her current state Morgan won't be able to protect them all and…"

"…and she'll die before losing the boys," Bobby finished grimly, glancing over his shoulder as if feeling something watching him and reminding himself to redo his wards later. "Plan B, idjits?"

Castiel was at a lost and Jack had grabbed his cellphone to call for Ethan to head back to Chuck's to get an eye on what he saw happening while 'Dean' had stepped away from the circle to drop the rings on the table, drew a quick design around them and whispered something that only he could hear.

"I screwed up…a lot, I know that, but please, I'll take the final judgment…just find some way to help these kids," he prayed, not even certain if this would work so far out of time when he fully accepted that his time had probably already been changed to much. "Give them the chance that we never did."

"Because that goofy little Prophet gives me a damn odd vibe so you go see him and…what the hell d'ya mean that he's…" Jack frowned into his phone as he listened to his brother then rubbed his head again. "If my life made sense at all, that would be so funny considering our family tree but just find me something to work with."

Staring down at the floor, 'Dean' knelt back down to pick up the amulet that had fallen from Sam's hand. "He gave you this because you were all he had faith left in, Dean," he murmured, speaking to the still form of Dean Winchester while reaching over to take Sam's limp hand and placed it over his brother's. "Sammy never lost faith in you even when he thinks you hate him and he has plenty more reasons to believe that now. Sammy needs you, Dean. Just like he always has…he needs you far more than my brother ever needed me."

A plan forming, 'Dean' knew he needed to wait for the right moment and play the one card that he suspected that Zachariah wasn't counting on. Right then, all he could do was try to reach his younger self through the one thing the boy had…his emotions.

"Morgan will fight to save you both, even if it kills her," he stared at the heart-shaped necklace before laying it in Dean's other hand while ignoring the blood pooling in the palm from an open wound and did the same thing with Morgan's limp hand as he had with Sam's. "You two have so much crap in front of you but she's still hiding from things that you don't know. Fight for her like she has for you, Dean."

Bobby had found the supplies needed for a blood transfusion and while he doubted it would help he was willing to try anything by this point when he again felt the odd sensation of someone watching him. "MacShayne, Morgan said Jim came to her. Is he still floating around?" he demanded, swearing that he'd kick someone ass if he had ghosts in his house again because he swore after that mess with John had happened that he'd blocked ghosts. "And what's he up to?"

"Umm, yeah, Singer. Murphy has been here but now I think he's bothering Dean," Jack muttered sourly, hating that for so many reasons. "As for why? Probably to cause my world to blow up again."

"You mean by telling Dean how he really met Morgan?" Bobby deadpanned, smirking the moment he heard the too cocky mystic choke. "Yeah, I bet that won't go over good since she clearly doesn't want him to know that or that other little matter."

Swearing to kill Kelly Robinson for leaving him to handle this crap alone, Jack refused to be baited and was about to offer a pithy reply a second before lights exploded and Morgan screamed. "Well, this doesn't look good."

"It isn't," 'Dean' sighed, pushing the link he could still control to see what the girl had and was forced to pull back rather than face that horror. "Hell."

"Well, this ain't the Kentucky Derby," Bobby growled, hooking the IV up to Dean's arm when he glanced back to catch the other man's grim look. "Or is that what…?"

Nodding, he slumped to the floor to grab the girl's other hand in the hopes of grounding her but felt the pain increasing along with the blood coming from her nose. "They're seeing Dean's Hell," he whispered, tightening his grip while squeezing her hand. "Hold on, Angel. Fight them or your all dead."

**Somewhere inside Dean's head:**

Not sure what to expect this time, Sam had been open minded…until he felt searing agony and heat as soon as he opened his eyes. "Oh, shit," he breathed, hand reaching out just to feel it grabbed. "Morgan?"

"We're on our own, Sam," she told him softly, eyes adjusting to the changing mindscape more quickly but what she was having a harder time with was her own rolling emotions and the pain shooting all over her body. "Something went wrong or something blocked that 'Dean' from coming with us and this is so not good."

Standing, Sam took a slow look around to see shattered shards of memory floating all over the place around them but certain pieces seemed to be larger and more focused. "Dean doing this or has the drugs really destroyed his mind?"

"Destroyed, no. Hurt, yes," she sighed, moving a hand to try to latch onto an image to start someplace. "Someplace in here is where Dean buried his core self to escape the pain and what was happening to him. We just have to survive this crap to find it."

"Joy, sounds like fun," Sam muttered, looking down when he noticed that his friend was shaking. "You… okay?" he asked, hearing something like a scream from somewhere but tuning it out for the moment. "Morg?"

Feeling what Sam couldn't, Morgan knew what was happening and what they could run into. "Sammy, a lot of this was made up to hurt so no matter what you see or hear don't believe it unless you feel in your heart that it's true because Zachariah's playing games and…" she stopped in mid-sentence as something seemed to run down her neck in an almost familiar fashion. "Sam…move!"

Turning on instinct, Morgan shoved Sam away just as a burning knife seemed to slash at her arm. The scream was instinctive as astral pain was very real. Expecting to encounter threats, she hadn't been counting on this so soon as a hand caught her throat and cut off the air to her already straining lungs.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," a mocking nasally voice seemed to come at them from everywhere and nowhere until Sam finally got the hang of focusing his thoughts in this nightmare reality and he was able to see what attacked them and what held Morgan even as his blood ran cold because he recognized both the voice and the man.

"Alastair…"

TBC

**Author notes: **_Not too bad of a chapter ending this time, but it's late and very hard typing with a cat on my lap. What will happen to Dean? Will he manage to survive all this before his mind is burned out and will both Sam and Morgan be able to survive in this very dangerous environment where nothing is as it seems and danger could be anywhere? Come back to find out,lol._


	15. Chapter 15

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Alastair…"

Sam Winchester hadn't been quite what to expect when he and Morgan Harrison entered the mindscape of Sam's older brother. He suspected he'd see various things from his brother's past, some he'd know and more the likely plenty that he didn't since Dean had been careful to keep the things that happened in the four years that they'd been apart while Sam was at Stanford to himself and of course there would be things more recently that Dean had buried.

The young hunter had warned himself that there would be things he saw or heard that Dean would be upset that he learned but the one thing he hadn't been expecting to see in the first few minutes was the main person behind his brother's torments in Hell.

Alastair had been Hell's premier torture master. As Sam learned from Ruby once, Alastair was infamous in the Pits for his cruel, malicious but methodical in his methods. He'd been primarily responsible for all the torture, the agony, and so much more that Dean Winchester endued for thirty Hell years or three months and after he finally gave in to the demon's demented offers, Alastair became Dean's mentor on the way to as close to a disciple as Alastair could have.

Now as Sam watched the image that had suddenly surrounded them, he stared at the tall, gaunt faced man whose nasally voice would be one that he knew would probably always haunt his brother. The demon infused body of Hell's torture master had also been the cause of the worst tension between him and Dean because Sam knew it had been the moment that his brother learned how Alastair had died at Sam's hands that he began loosing more trust in him.

That day Sam had been high on Ruby's blood and built to believe that he was better than Dean since his brother had lost a good deal of himself since returning from Hell. On this day, Sam was off the blood and running on fears, emotion, and adrenaline.

While his nerves were humming and his fear plain, the younger Winchester also understood that he had something beside his brother or his own life to protect. "Let her go," he ordered, not sure how he'd handle this but knowing he needed to break the contact that this image or whatever it was had on Morgan's throat. "You're nothing but a vision in Dean's mind. You can't hurt us."

"Can't I?" Alastair seemed amused at that opinion as he shifted his eyes between the young woman he was holding to Sam. "You really have no idea of the risks involved in here, do you?" he sneered, laughing in that same annoying voice that honestly made Sam's teeth clench. "I could snap her neck and she'd die out there too but…what's the fun in that?" his hand opened to allow the young woman to drop limply to the rocky seeming, blood covered floor of what seemed to be one of the levels of Hell. "It'll be more fun to talk to you, Sam…I mean, surely you must've had questions before you killed me."

"Besides why of all the humans you could have possessed you had to pick on with a voice like nails on a chalkboard? No, not really," Sam refused to show the fear he had while he made himself looking the smirking man in the eyes but also tried to gauge the condition of his unmoving friend. "Where's Dean?"

A dismissive wave of a hand before Alastair snapped his fingers to change the image and soon Sam found himself alone with the master of torture in a room of rotting carcasses, bloody hooks hanging from the ceiling and walls, tools of every shape and matter and a huge steel torture rack in the center of the room.

"What the hell? Where's Morgan?" Sam demanded, swallowing the sour taste that was beginning to come as he felt the emotions in this room as well as screams from souls he couldn't see. "I know what this is and it isn't real," he declared, fist clenching the moment he saw the tall man pick up a curved bloody spiked blade. "This image, you…you're just something that Zachariah's drugs are forcing my brother to see because it'll hurt him and…"

"John was right. You certainly are the more reflective and rational of his boys," Alastair cut in thoughtfully, taking a whetstone to the blade but smiled like a shark upon seeing the frown form on the boy's face. "Oh, your Daddy and I talked plenty about you boys. Talk was all I could do since nothing I did to the man phased him. I cut, I bled him, I burned him, I turned my worst pets loose but nothing worked on John Winchester. At first I thought he was being all tough and brave to protect his sons but then, one day, it hit me. He wasn't reacting to the torture because he was protecting you, he just didn't give a crap and that was when I also realized that he knew."

The mention of his father made Sam wary since he still had serious issues with John Winchester but had buried them years ago even after events of West Virginia made him the perfect body for his late Father's spirit to possess. "Knew what?" he asked, moving slowly to one side while praying that Morgan was safe wherever she was in this place. "My Dad gave his soul to the Yellow Eyed demon to save Dean so what…"

"Sam, until I met a Winchester I have to confess that I haven't laughed as much as I have with you and your brother," Alastair chuckled, placing the knife on his work table in order to prop a hip on it and watch the hunter. "You think more than Dean does but you're nearly as naïve as he was. John didn't just give in to save Dean's life. He gave in because he knew that he'd planted the first seeds in Dean's head about you going full on Dark Side and knowing that boy John knew that Dean's own self destructive nature would do the rest," he paused as Sam's eyes narrowed.

"John had known for a long while about what really happened in your house the night your precious Mommy was killed and that was why he left Dean to hunt alone. He needed the time to learn it all, to make plans because he also knew the truth about what was really destined for you and Dean," the demon smiled. "He'd taken the one thing that could've stopped it out of the picture when you were twelve because that annoying, rather hard-headed little girl was the only thing that could've protected you and Dean so John needed her gone. He admitted to me that he really did regret not killing her in Boston when he had the chance…before Dean got involved."

That made Sam's already whirling mind stop in mid-track to turn back to actually stare at the smirking demon. "What the hell are you talking about? San Antonio wasn't the only time Dad went after her?" he asked, remembering the one photo in his brother's bag that he'd never understood and felt his blood run cold. "Dad knew about the Angels? He knew what would happen to Dean here if he broke? No, Dean was Dad's favorite…he wouldn't have set him up for…"

Hazy memories of the time when he'd been possessed by his Father's spirit were things he'd been trying to keep Dean from knowing he had but now he thought on those and felt his knees go weak. "Dad knew," he whispered. "He knew about me, the blood, he knew that Dean wouldn't be able to let me go, he knew…"

"Daddy dearest knew nearly everything including the one thing that would make your big brother break down here," Alastair smiled, spreading his arms to as if showing off this main room of horrors. "Everyday from the moment those wonderful pets of Lilith dragged Dean into my humble workroom I would make him the same offer I made John and he'd tell me where I could shove my offers. Then I ripped his skin off…as well as other things but seeing is far better in some cases or so I've been told," he replied, snapping his fingers to bring into focus a smaller image.

"You were the more religious one so I'm guessing you know that there are several levels of Hell and your brother spent time on each of them. Each day I'd have him dragged to the hooks and hung, demons stripping him of flesh, organs, etc and etc until I'd heal him to begin again," he clucked his tongue in disgust while showing a very vivid vision of some of the more physical, more cruel and more humiliating punishments he'd dished out to his favorite student. "I have been doing this for more millennia than I care to think on and I have rarely come across a soul as mouthy, cocky, and downright stubborn as Dean…you should be proud of him for that, at least."

Sam's fists had clenched at his sides as he was forced to watch the torment Dean endued at this thing's hands. "He fought you, told you to piss off for thirty years so I will always be proud of my brother because he withstood you, that for…" his words trailed off when he finally had to close his eyes when the image got to be too horrifying. "Damn you. This was torture for you? I thought you were more into the blood and guts littering the floor than…"

"Dean's a proud man, Sam. I was watching him for a long time even before John came to me and we made a little deal of our own. I knew his inner strengths but also his weaknesses," Alastair smiled as he gazed at the image before looking at Sam. "You have no idea the things he protected you from or didn't tell you about the things in your lives. The things John did or allowed to happen but what he protected you most from, other than Johnny boy, was me.

"Yes, he lasted down here for thirty long years my time. He tossed my offer of letting him off the rack back at me every single day until I finally decided to use my Ace in the Pit," the tall gaunt body of the vessel that Alastair used smiled when pained eyes shot his way. "I actually had two of those but she was too lethal for my kind and she was also already being a huge pain in the ass but since I knew that Jack's father would frown if I sent anyone after one his sons I tried to avoid the girl. You on the other hand was the perfect one since Dean was weakest when it came to you, Sam.

"Ruby had you exactly where you needed to be and granted I didn't know the levels that girl was working on, I knew if I needed her to that she could deliver you to me and that's exactly what I told Dean one day," Alastair brought the scene right up so that the boy couldn't escape the sounds of his brother's screams, or the smell of his blood or the absolute sense of loss when Dean was finally forced to give in to the demons or let his little brother suffer. "I explained in absolute, crystal clear detail everything that I would do to you once I had you strapped to my rack. I told him plainly that I would have things done to you that not even that pal of John's did…which apparently your brother didn't know until I explained a few things and of course I also told him that I could destroy you without even touching you by just letting Ruby go wild. Dean said yes soon after and he became the best student I've had in many an era and I guess by some of things I've seen in here…he still is," he laughed. "Do you want me to fill you in on exactly what he did to that pretty girl? Or what his mind could still make him do to her or you or…Sam, was that wise?"

Having heard enough and his anger, his sickness, his fears driving him, Sam reacted on instinct when he finally lunged toward the torture master of Hell only to be slammed into a stonewall and held in place by what appeared to be claw-like hands coming out of the stone. "You're not real!" he shouted, memories suddenly blinding him of things his brother did while at Alastair's hands to what he endured even after released from the rack to Sam's own bitter memories. "I killed you once and I can…argh!" sharp pain slammed into the shoulder that had been stabbed in San Antonio.

"Sammy, you got lucky that time. You're not high on Ruby's blood," Alastair reminded calmly, picking up the curved blade again to lift it to Sam's throat. "You're all by yourself in this big bad world and even if I'm not real I can still make you bleed or…"

Jerking as much as possible, Sam twisted his head away from the tip of the blade when suddenly he heard the demon image gasp as if surprised. Looking back, he was numbly shocked to see Alastair staring down at the tip of a knife as it protruded from his chest.

"One huge problem with that plan, mate. Sam's rarely ever alone and did you think it was that simple to block me from him?" Morgan's voice carried her anger as she gave a final shove of the knife into the demon's back until she felt it begin to dissolve. "You shouldn't have showed him that. I won't let you hurt him like this."

Gasping but still able to give that annoying nasally laugh, the fading image slowly turned to look up at her. "Plenty of things in this messed up zone that'll hurt…not only Sam, but then you know that," he sneered, seeming to not mind that he and this image were fading away. "If he hadn't been in such pain…he would've felt you those nights you snooped. I wonder what Dean would be more upset over? That Sam knows what he does or that you know it all…of course Dean isn't the only one with secrets, is he?"

Fading away with a mocking laugh, the two soon found themselves not in the bloody, fiery image of Hell as Dean saw it once but on a lonely back top road surrounded by dark, almost haunting trees.

"I really have to remind Jack to make sure that bloody son of a bitch is dead," Morgan muttered sourly, looking briefly at the knife in her hand before stepping toward Sam and noticing how pale he seemed. "Sammy, you okay? Sam?"

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" the young hunter asked softly almost to himself, staring down at the blacktop until a gentle touch made him look up. "What else did he keep from me, Morgan? Alastair said that there was other stuff, stuff with Dad, what the hell else would he hide?"

Sam's tone sounded so young, so confused that it reminded Morgan of the day in Blue Earth, Montana when she arrived to find a frightened and confused twelve year old Sam waiting downstairs while Jim Murphy dealt with a seriously hurt Dean.

Uncertain what all Sam might've seen while they'd been separated, she suspected that he'd probably been shown the one thing that she'd been struggling to keep from him and that was about Dean's time in Hell. "Sam, Dean would always protect you. He willingly went into that Crossroads deal to save you and he accepted the outcome," she sighed as she also remembered that time and the near desperation she'd felt in trying to find a way to break that deal but also the pain of loss and fear. "I know he shut you out that year, pretended that it was fine with him that he'd be dying and even at the end he fought for that braveness to protect you.

"Dean would never tell you the truth of what he endured not only because some of it was still too raw but also because he was protecting you from those images, from those memories. He was still the big brother and he needed to believe that he still had to protect you," Morgan squeezed his arm. "It hurt him more than he'll still admit that in your own way, you shut him out after he came back. Sam, I could've cheerfully slammed both your heads together at times."

"I know and I know now that it was all set-up to drive me and Dean apart," Sam returned darkly, still hating those months of bitterness and lies and even now, despite what Dean says to the contrary, he expects to be dropped…or hurt. "Maybe it would be better if I was…ow!" he yelped in reaction to the slap to the back of his head. "What was that for?"

Deciding that both Winchesters were stubborn, hardheaded morons at times, Morgan shook her head as the surroundings began to dawn on her. "Life or more importantly Dean's life would not be better off if you were dead, Sam," she told him firmly. "Yeah, it's not so good right now but trust me, Dean's your brother and despite how he acts at times he will always be that."

Sam wasn't so certain of that when he looked around with a frown. "Where are we now? This doesn't look familiar or is this another one of those Angel drug reactions?"

"Every person's main astral plane or mindscape has a core spot that acts as a directional pathway or a safe spot between memories," Morgan explained, wincing as her head hurt in a way that told her it wasn't her own pain that she was feeling. "Like for you, it could be Stanford or a library or another place that held special meaning. For Dean, right now, it looks like it's a…highway. That is so like him."

"We grew up on the road and even now Dean's more at ease in the Impala than in a hotel. The only time I ever saw him at peace somewhere was when we spent the summer at the cabin with you," Sam admitted, understanding the road but not liking the way the trees seemed to close around them. "Does he have any good memories left or is it just the bad ones meant to hurt him and us?"

Pausing to consider that, Morgan decided to try to reach out a little to see if she could lock onto anything solid that might lead them to Dean but gasped as a cold hand seemed to slash back at her.

"Morg?" Sam was quick to move to grab her arm when it seemed to him as if something had physically struck her with enough force to knock her back. "You alright?" he asked, seeing blood on her mouth. "Is Dean in here anywhere?"

Wiping the blood away, she wasn't sure if this strong a resistance was a good thing or not especially when she hadn't picked up anything that even hinted at locating her friend. Not that she planned on telling Sam that yet and allowing him to lose any more hope than he had already.

"Sam, think of a memory. Any memory that you have of Dean or with Dean that's good or brings peace or light," Morgan instructed, feeling a cold chill even before a howl was heard far off in the distance. "Ignore what he showed you or the troubles recently. Find one memory and focus on it. We're gonna try to fight bad with good and see if that has a reaction. I can ground the image so that Dean, wherever he is in here should be able to see it or feel something from it."

Frowning as if in consideration, Sam walked to the edge of the road to sit under a tree while thinking hard. He had so many memories of his older brother, with his brother, that he knew he could call on but something told him that to make this work he'd need a memory that would also hold an emotional tie for them and after some thought smiled as he pulled up the perfect one.

"Got it," he murmured, surprised that he had no trouble thinking past the possible pain this memory could also cause to lock on the one part that always still made him smile. "What do I…?"

Morgan sat down next to the younger man, took his hand while hoping this worked and didn't make it worse. "Just think on that memory and on Dean," she told him quietly, relieved that Sam seemed relaxed because she knew how dangerous this could be if he wasn't. "We need to get him to respond to us in some way while hoping that the darker crap doesn't overwhelm him or…Sam, this is what you thought of?" she felt like groaning, laughing and crying all at the same time the moment she saw which memory was coming to life. "Of all the memories you have with Dean or of him and this is the one you pick?"

"Yeah, because it's still nearly the best memory I have because that summer, before all that happened with Dad at Bobby's, was what I think of when I want to remember Dean being happy," Sam replied, turning his hand over so that he could grip his friend's and watching her through half open eyes. "Admit it, you liked that day too…or at least you and Dean seemed to after Molly took me inside and…"

"Shut up, Sam," Morgan muttered, now agreeing with Dean's opinion that his little brother did have the radar of a bat when it came to snooping. "Concentrate and let the image come…"

The soft laugh made her smile since it was so rare these days to hear Sam laugh that carefree laugh that was once so freely given. The image, on the other hand, while it was a happy one also brought up other feelings since she and Dean still had issues to iron out.

Allowing the image to grow and add extra strength to it so that it could hopefully reach Dean's inner self, Morgan felt the burning in her veins again and quickly struggled to push it down while also feeling the cold darkness coming closer. "This bloody well better work," she muttered, silently praying that somewhere in here Dean could see this happy memory of…

**Flashback, summer of 1994, Taho, Nevada:**

"Was not!"

"Was so."

"It was not, Dean!"

"Sammy, as your much adored, ever so handsome big brother, trust me. I think I know what it was that I shot at out in those woods."

While normally not easily frustrated or annoyed by his brother's antics, this time twelve year old Sam Winchester felt like throwing the ski pole he was trying to figure out how to use at his cocky head. Of course, he then knew he'd be in trouble with more than just Dean so he settled on a low mutter under his breath. "Yetis do not exist and if they did one wouldn't be skulking around the mountains of Nevada," he complained.

"Lots of things aren't supposed to exist but we know better. So if it wasn't a Yeti then maybe Bigfoot decided to visit the mountains before cashing in at the casinos," Dean Winchester shot his annoyed brother his usual too cocky smile while ducking a well-aimed snowball that would have hit his head if he hadn't ducked at the last second. "Nice shot, Sammy."

"It's Sam," came the nearly petulant return which just made his brother laugh but Sam did smile after he'd turned away, still making certain to watch Dean when he knew his brother wasn't paying attention.

It had been a couple weeks since Dean had woken up and became nearly fully on his feet after an impulsive and reckless move on Sam's part had enraged their Father to the point that he had beaten his older son severally.

The younger boy still wasn't sure why his furious Dad had agreed to allow him and Dean to stay out all summer with their new friend but he wasn't questioning it too much since this was one of the few times in his young life that he could recall doing things like a normal kid without fear of being yelled at or worse. It was also one of the few times that Sam could remember seeing his big brother lose the cocky attitude usually and smile for real.

Of course, both were usually when he thought Sam was nowhere around.

"Hey, did you salt and burn a snowman earlier, slick?"

Dropping the newly packed snowball that he'd planned on tossing toward his little brother, Dean turned back to the cabin the moment he heard the British accent and offered his patented heart melting smile that normally never failed him…on most girls.

"Technically," he admitted with a shrug while hearing Sam cover a laugh. "Sammy's snowman had glowing red eyes so I…sorta melted him. Demon snowmen, Yetis, what else does this mountain have in store for me, babe?" he asked easily, relaxing more as he took in the pretty teenage girl who was leaning in the open door. "What's coming tomorrow? A pagan Santa?"

"You wish for such simple things, hotshot," Morgan Harrison closed the door before the housekeeper could shout about heating the whole mountain. "I was going to suggest teaching Sam to ski but since Molly's grounded you to solid ground I guess I'll have to do that all by myself while you stay inside listening to Molly's grand tales of…Dean!"

Giving a mock snarl, Dean lunged with better agility than he expected to have given his recent wounds and the melting snow to snatch the laughing fourteen year old British girl around the waist before she could bolt. "Uh-huh, you are so not leaving me with that Irish dragon while you're having fun with my annoying little brother," he told her firmly, spinning as if he was going to toss her into the mound of snow that Sam still liked to play in but pulled her back at the last second to shift so that she eased to her feet but remained close to him. "I can pass any test she gives me that says I'm fine for physical activity."

"Sure you can, Dean," Morgan smiled up at him, shooting him a warning look to watch it since she hardly ever let him this close when Sam was close. "Sammy, Molly's making dessert and says you can help her if you'd like," she called back to where she knew the younger boy would be watching with over-attentive eyes.

Those same bright hazel eyes lit up with the thoughts of sugar and so with typical Sam enthusiasm he dropped the items he was trying to figure out to run through the snow toward the cabin that belonged to a friend of Morgan's. "Don't toss Dean into the snow!" he shouted back over his shoulder before hitting the door.

"Super, Sam on a sugar high tonight," Dean groaned, knowing how hyper his brother could be normally without the aid of sugar. "We will never get him down without tying him in bed. Thanks, Morg," he muttered then smiled when he felt her move closer in his arms since it was just the two of them.

"Yeah, I suppose I should've mentioned that Molly was making strawberry shortcake for tonight and that she rarely used any serious sugar in that," the girl smiled dryly, seeing realization slowly dawn on the sixteen year old. "Dean, do you think I'd willingly give that kid sugar and still plan on him sleeping?"

Dean laughed while imagining his little brother's reaction to this but since he knew they probably had a short time alone before Sam showed back up he considered his next move for only a heartbeat before tightening his arms just enough to warn Morgan that he was up to something. Then the moment her eyes locked on his, he gave her the cocky smile that he knew made her laugh only seconds before he dropped them both back into the snow that the top of the mountains still had.

"Dean!" Morgan knew she should've been expecting this move but she was more concerned with him moving in a way that might hurt wounds still not healed since she knew he had those because once he learned of the energy she'd given up caring for him and Sam the elder Winchester hadn't let her heal him again. "Not funny, Winchester."

"Oh, I think it's sorta funny," Dean laughed, turning slightly so that he could watch her as he lightly ran a finger across her cheek. "Of course I also think you're cute as a snow bunny too, Angel," he added softly, using the nickname he normally used for her because that too made her smile. "Jim called earlier."

Morgan had been thinking of a reply to the snow bunny comment when she heard that and struggled not to show the concern. "Oh? For what?" she asked, promising to slap Jim Murphy the next time she saw him. She knew that Jim didn't agree with certain choices she'd made but she would stick to them because she had reasons for not telling Dean the full truth on what happened while he was unconscious and also why she refused to answer his questions on her she'd met Jim. "He think I'm not taking care of Sam?"

"Oh, no. He knows you're taking care of Sammy. Jim's more concerned over how you're taking care of yourself when we both know you weren't," Dean replied, not missing the change in her eyes but deciding not to push the issue about Jim and her yet since he figured he still had the rest of the summer to get that little secret out of her. "Mainly he just wanted to see how I was feeling, bitch about Caleb, the usual," he sat up before holding out a hand to her. "I told him I was feeling fine, neglected to mention that you'd worn yourself out, and that Sam was being an annoying twelve year old who had rotten timing…for some reason he didn't seem surprised about that last one."

Taking the hand he offered, Morgan wasn't naïve enough to suspect her friend wasn't planning something else sneaky or underhanded but he did take her by surprise when he took the new winter jacket off to slip her inside it when he noticed her shivering. "Dean?"

Since the night they'd first met, Morgan had seen a lot of sides of Dean Winchester. She'd seen the way too cocky hunter in training, the protective older brother, the too sure of himself teenager, the son who just tried to please but rarely did she see Dean be himself. Only when they were alone, when it was just the two of them, was she certain that she saw the real Dean.

Not the cocky kid who needed to be so self-assured, so brutally efficient that it could be scary but a regular sixteen year old boy who liked to flirt, to tease his little brother and to sit in front of the fireplace at night and just about stuff.

"Think maybe if we teach Sam to ski without killing him that we might have a private lesson?" Dean asked teasingly, running his fingers up her arm in a motion that he'd used several times since they'd met but frowning when he felt her tense and he thought her wind reddened cheeks seemed to pale. "Morgan?"

"Probably not since with my luck you'd fall off the bloody mountain or get snatched up by a giant dragon," Morgan coughed to cover the sudden unease his easy, harmless teasing had caused and for the first time since meeting him she felt the need to put distance between them. "I think I'll go check on Sam and…" the words stopped the moment she was helped to her feet but noticed that his hands didn't immediately move from where they'd gripped hers carefully.

Dean liked to think he was a good judge of character. He had to be since he was always being tested by his Father and he had never questioned the fact that despite everything, Morgan was keeping things to herself. Things like how a girl with powers like she did and who wasn't afraid to hunt a zombie in a rainy cemetery had met a hunter like Jim Murphy. He also caught on quick that when he asked about her own life and history that his friend tended to shy away from the questions or shut down.

Morgan, for Dean, wasn't like the girl's he'd meet in the schools he attended. They had more in common, he didn't have to hide his real self but he'd also picked up that he couldn't treat her like he often did those girls in school because a deep sense somewhere inside warned him, even before a couple weeks ago when she admitted to him that she'd never been kissed before.

"Teasing, Morg," he told her softly, having only seen this frightened look once and that was the night they first met and he learned what she could do. He'd hated it that night and he hated seeing it now, especially when he caught the way she was standing. "Did I scare you, Angel?" Dean asked, still not moving his hands but he did allow them to gently ease her back against his chest and was shocked to feel her shaking.

Caring for Dean after she had brought him and Sam to the cabin hadn't been easy since it was well over a week before the usual staff arrived to help. Morgan fully knew between that, using her powers and the newly formed link between her and Dean to help heal his more serious injuries and often staying awake for long periods, she was beyond worn out so this shouldn't have come as a surprise.

When she was tired, hurt, or around the time, the reactions and memories could resurface and she knew that was why Jim was calling more. Only Jim Murphy knew the absolute truth about her past and he knew what she was willing to risk for Sam and Dean so he'd know that the odds were high what was probably happening.

Not willing to allow that time or issues to hurt what she knew was building between her and Dean, Morgan forced herself to calm down and meet his concerned green eyes with a shy smile. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just tired or something, I guess," she replied, feeling the warmth of his arms as they held her much like he does every night once they're alone and beginning to feel the other stuff slowly go away. "We'll teach Sam how to ski or build a demon free snowman or maybe find you something to shoot at that won't eat you or…hmm?"

A gentle kiss caught her mouth in mid-word as Dean had finally heard enough to know his friend was beyond tired just by the way she was rambling and chose to stop it. Instinct had always made him go slower with Morgan than he normally did and he usually made the move with plenty of time for her to stop him but today he felt like she needed this as much as he wanted it.

"Today, we're role reversing," he whispered against her ear after he broke the kiss to feel her relaxing more against him. "You're going inside, taking a warm bath since I decided to get you wet in the snow, changing into something warm and taking a nap until dinner while I distract Sam."

Startled at his suggestion, Morgan began to object when she was reminded that even at sixteen Dean Winchester could be stubborn and he showed it now when he lightly framed her face, letting the darkening strands of strawberry blond hair sift through his fingers. "Do this for me and tonight, after we get Sammy down and out, it can just be us," he bargained, finally seeing her smile and nod and he was leaning down to kiss her again when he was reminded of why having a little brother was such a pain at times.

"I told Molly that if I waited long enough this is how I'd find you two," Sam spoke from the door where he was already munching on a bowl of fresh strawberries with whip cream. "Have I mentioned how gross you guys are?"

Groaning, Dean grabbed before Morgan could pull away like she always did when Sam interrupted them. "I might toss you down the mountain, Sammy," he growled, giving his brother a pointed look then glanced at the door in a plain message that the boy obviously understood when he stepped back while holding the door open without looking like it. "Of course then Morg wouldn't give me the time of day for awhile since everyone knows you're her favorite."

"Uh-huh, sure I am," Sam grinned, taking another spoonful of his treat while noticing that his brother's hand was laying almost protectively against their friend's back.

This was something Sam recognized. This was something that Dean would often do with him when he was trying to shield him or to offer support and seeing it now between his brother and their friend made him feel happy because he knew that if Dean was willing to let his guard down with someone other than Sam then the younger boy knew his brother would always be alright.

"Who's her favorite when you guys think you're alone, Dean?" he teased, laughing when he saw Morgan throw Dean a dirty look before elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

"Get the bowl off of him, Dean," she warned, choosing to go change before Molly, the friendly but firm Irish housekeeper, began asking too many questions about how she got soaked or why she wasn't sleeping unless it was when she'd fall asleep with Dean on the sofa. "Trust me, you do not want him having too much of that."

Waving the warning away, Dean gave a quick playful kiss to the forehead before nudging her toward the back of the large cabin. "I've been watching over him for twelve years, babe," he laughed, eyeing his bright-eyed little brother with a familiar cocky smirk. "I think I can handle him with a bowl of strawberries."

Several hours later Dean was regretting those words as he once again had to snatch his overly hyper brother off of something that was too high up off the floor.

Confident that he could handle distracting Sam for a few hours while Morgan, hopefully, got some sleep that would help both take the edge off and help her get some strength back. When she slept through dinner, Dean decided to let it go but by that evening when his brother had finally reached the peak of his energy he was also about ready to scream.

"Sammy, care to tell me how you got this hyper on just a few bowls of strawberries?" he demanded, slumping on the long sofa to bury his head in a pillow even as he heard the laugh. "I tasted those things and they barely had anything on them so how the hell did you get like this?"

"The sugar wasn't in the berries, Dean," Sam pointed out helpfully, leaning over the sofa arm to lift the pillow up with a bright smile. "It was in the whip cream. Molly says that's why she doesn't put too much on the berries since the fluffy stuff has all of it."

Groaning, Dean felt like slapping himself for not listening to what Morgan told him earlier. His brother was a great kid, despite what they both lived with daily, but the one thing that Dean was always careful with was Sam's sugar intake because once the kid got hyper then it was nearly impossible to calm him down until he wound down.

Dean had a bad hunch that tonight would be one of those nights when he suddenly realized that he wasn't hearing Sam and that was a dead giveaway that something was up. "Sam?" looking around, he felt his blood freeze when he spotted his brother just reaching for the curtain that hung over one of the long windows as if he was planning on scaling them again.

"Sammy!"

The sharp tone had Sam dropping his hand and Dean releasing the breath he'd been holding. "I have never been so glad to hear anyone as I am you right now," he sighed. "I will never doubt you again, babe."

"You let him have more strawberries," Morgan could tell this the moment she stepped into the cabin's great room to see Sam eyeing the curtain. "Sammy, I love you but if you think of climbing those I'll make certain you never see another thing with sugar for the rest of the summer," she warned.

Not expecting or meaning to sleep that long, she could feel the strain in Dean and also noticed that he was rubbing his shoulder absently which was where he still had some bruises showing from where he'd been beat and kicked. "Okay?" she asked quietly after more assured that Sam wasn't climbing anything for the moment.

"Yeah, just sore cause I snatched him off of a chair before he got up close and personal with that moose head on the wall," Dean rolled his eyes, seeing that Sam had flopped down in front of the fireplace to read. "You feeling better?" he noticed less shadows in her blue eyes and he also sensed that she wasn't as tense as he moved so she could curl up next to him on the sofa.

Still feeling a little tired, Morgan did feel better than she had earlier that day but as the summer got closer to the end and she knew that eventually the boys would have to go back with John. It was those thoughts that were also bothering her because she knew that once Dean and Sam got back with their Dad that she'd probably never see them again and that was something she'd have to find a way around.

"A little," she admitted quietly, glancing down to see that Dean was fingering the silver heart necklace that he'd given her and feeling him ease his arm around her. "Dean?"

"It'll be fine," he whispered as if sensing some of her concern if not the reason for it since he had yet to learn everything that happened after he passed out at Jim Murphy's house. "Even after the summer's over, you know I'm a phone call away and we always see one another at Jim's."

"Morgan? What this?" Sam called, holding up the book he was reading to show her which page he was referring to.

Grinning at Dean's groan, Morgan patted his shoulder before going over to ease down next to Sam to see what he was looking at. "Sammy, we are so not going to hunt ancient Indian monsters in these woods," she argued the moment she saw which book he had but did listen to his excited explanations and questions.

Not as disgusted by his little brother's so-called innocent interruptions as he tried to appear, Dean sat on the sofa to watch Morgan with Sam. He never doubted that the affection she showed to Sam was genuine just like he knew that Sam adored her.

From the first night they'd met, after he got over the fact that zombies existed and he got his ass handed to him by a thirteen year old girl with a knife and an attitude, Dean knew that things were getting better for them because while with John Winchester things were all about hunting and finding the thing that killed their Mom.

With Morgan, Dean had quickly understood that even though hunting was never far away, he could still act more normal with her than he usually did. Though what relieved him more was that someone else besides him showed his normally quiet brother real attention.

Dean recalled the first time at Pastor Jim's place after that meeting, the first time his Dad met the pretty British girl that Jim had just introduced by her name, not what she was or how he met her, and how quickly Sam lost his normal shyness that weekend. He also recalled how easy it was to talk to her and just be himself.

"Be myself," he spoke to himself softly while considering that. The him that he allowed himself to be with his brother and friend certainly wouldn't be accepted by John Winchester who expected the perfect hunter, the perfect son, the perfect soldier while Morgan accepted him and pushed for the guy who didn't flirt like crazy, the one who didn't act tough every second of the day…the guy who enjoyed just sitting and watching the fire after Sam fell asleep.

Dean smiled at Sam's laugh because it had been so damn long since he'd heard that happy, careless laugh that his brother usually only could use when it was just them.

"Maybe if we look we might actually find that so-called Yeti that tried to eat Dean," Sam giggled, noticing that one eyebrow winged up and knew what his brother's next move would soon be since he was now paying attention to them. "Who knows, it could've been some extinct monster or something. Maybe that thing in Dad's journal…a Wen…digo."

"I doubt if a Wendigo tried to eat Dean, Sam," Morgan laughed, deciding not to mention that the boy could've been close to the truth when a pillow landed on the floor between them only a moment before Sam was snatched up and carefully tossed. "Dean, you drop him and it's your head."

Laughing in pure joy Sam never had a doubt that he'd be caught and so wasn't scared when his big brother caught him halfway down, sat him on his feet while jerking his chin toward the bedrooms.

"Go get the blankets and some pillows," he told him after making a sudden decision which he knew was right the moment he saw his brother's face light up as he took off. "We're camping out."

"Camping?" Morgan repeated, glancing around the main room of the cabin before eyeing Dean curiously. "You up to something, slick?"

Giving a painful gasp as if hurt, he dropped to his knees next to her on the floor while moving Sam's books to one side. "I'm hurt that you have so little faith in me, Angel," he grinned, reaching up to curl a strand of hair around his finger to make her smile. "We're in the mountains. Perfect place to camp except it's too cold yet and Bobby and Jim would kill me if I took Sam home with pneumonia so I figured we'd camp here."

Catching the blankets and comforter that Sam dragged into the room, Dean quickly spread the thick quilted dark green comforter from his bed on the floor in front of the fireplace as pillows were soon being tossed his way after Sam brought several in. "I wouldn't think about it, kiddo," he warned without looking since he could already tell what his impetuous little brother was considering. "You hit me with a pillow once and I so made you regret it."

"Yeah but you're still hurt and Morgan says you're lucky if you can ties your own boots right now," Sam shot back with a smirk that so mirrored on his own that Dean blinked but then he was turning on his heel. "I can't tie my own shoes?" he snorted. "Want to tell me that to my…hey!"

A pillow smacked him in the face the moment he turned and Sam erupted into joyous laughter behind him. "Got him!" he cheered, laughing and clapping his hands. "She got you, Dean! Morgan got you!"

Running his tongue over his teeth while he pushed his hair out of his face, Dean eyed the pillow that he'd grabbed after it smacked him in the face before considering his options and making a split second decision. Turning as if his move would be to go after his still laughing brother, Dean waited a full three seconds before tossing the pillow at Sam but whirling back around to catch Morgan around the waist after she'd put herself off balance moving to help Sam.

"Hit me with a pillow, Morgan?" he grinned, being careful when he twisted to toss her as he had Sam moments before but this time he held on and landed them both in the pile of pillows. "You really have no clue that I am the pillow fight master, do you?" Dean teased, keeping his hold light and cautious so he didn't frighten her but heard her laugh lightly.

About to make his next move, Dean grunted when a small body suddenly launched itself onto his still sore and bruised back but managed to keep his balance so that he could still pin Morgan down and not cause Sam to lose his as the boy clung to his back. "Two on one, guys? C'mon, where the fair play in that?"

"I thought the old motto was 'all's fair in love, war, and pillow fights, luv?" Morgan grinned up at him but she'd clearly sensed his pain but stayed silent at his slight head shake.

"Well then I guess this is fair," Dean moved quickly when his arm reached back to grab Sam and pull him down onto the comforter where he hit him with the closest pillow while going back to giving Morgan his cockiest smile. "I'm still moving so that means I won, babe," he murmured, watching her eyes closely to gauge the reaction when he made the move to kiss her.

Sam, pulling the pillow away with a muttered curse, glanced over before rolling his eyes. "Gross," he decided, snatching another pillow and his blanket before curling up and going to sleep much quicker than even he was expecting.

"You cheat, Dean," Morgan told him after the kiss broke and she yawned. "You distract me too easily."

"You worry about Sam too much so I have the edge," Dean admitted, silently pleased that someone else would always protect his little brother since he rarely trusted anyone with Sam. Propping some pillows up close to where he noticed that Sam had fallen to sleep, he stretched out and then waited. "Warm fire, cozy blankets, maybe a spooky story or three?" he offered.

Checking to be sure that Sam seemed to be sleeping peacefully, Morgan considered the offer before exhaustion won out and she laid down on the comforter and eased back to so that her head was resting on Dean's arm. "Watch he doesn't roll toward the fire," she murmured with another yawn, feeling a blanket covering her along with a familiar arm that she knew was one that she'd never fear.

"He won't," Dean promised, smiling as he watched his friend fall to sleep next to him even as he hand was reaching out to curl in Sam's sweatshirt to make sure he stayed where he was. "Sam's fine, Morg," he whispered, pressing a gentle last kiss into her hair before closing his eyes and hoping that it could stay this way for awhile longer. "It'll always be us," he murmured, feeling sleep come over him.

**Present time in Dean's Mind:**

"Dean meant it to be that way," Sam sighed, leaning against the tree without opening his eyes right away as if he didn't want to let go of that memory. "I'm still sorry that it was my fault that it…"

"It wasn't your fault, Sam," Morgan told him, blinking tears away because she hadn't been expecting the image to also come with the emotions of that time. "John pretty much knew from the day I confronted him that he wasn't going to let Dean have any other life but hunting. I gave it up to keep you two safe and despite everything else I can't regret that," she declared. "I loved him and you but I needed to keep you guys safe."

Sam had known that his friend still felt guilty about that and wished that he could take it back but something else bothered him, something Alastair said about John's punishment to his brother.

Hazel eyes snapping open, Sam stood up quickly and was making a move to grab for Morgan's arm when he noticed the change in the air. "Damn, do you think Dean saw any of that?" he asked, noticing that the already overgrown trees seemed to be getting more dense, as if trying to close them off.

"Can't tell," she shrugged, frowning as an odd sense of dread hit her just as a burning pain struck her ribs as if she'd just taken a brutal hit from something. "What the bloody…"

Seeing Morgan jerk, Sam had her arm only a second before the air around them was filled with screams and shouts and the darkness got heavier, it was almost a choking feeling.

"Sam! It's another image!" Morgan felt the change a moment before it happened and she gasped as another wave of pain hit and only Sam's arm kept her standing. "Where the bloody hell is this?"

"No," Sam whispered tightly, feeling his stomach clench as the memory cleared to reveal a run down hotel somewhere well away from South Dakota. "No, Dean swore to me nothing happened. He goddamn swore to me that nothing…son of a bitch!"

Making sure to keep a tight grip on Sam this time since she didn't want a repeat of what happened with Alastair, Morgan was feeling his growing unease only a moment before she understood and went cold. "Sam, where is this?" she demanded softly, not liking the looks of the run down motel or the battered van parked next to the Impala. "Sammy?"

"After…after you left, Dad took us away from Bobby's soon after that. He was talking about helping Jefferson or Caleb but he drove and drove until he stopped at this dump. He and Dean were tense and I think it wouldn't have taken much for Dean to snap but then Dad went out for a night and came back with some friends of his that I'd never met before," Sam's eyes were cold, his fists clenching now to the point that the veins in his forearms were coming out. "As soon as Dean saw the guys his whole attitude changed. Where he was quietly defiant before, now he was cocky. Putting on the tough act that I knew was fake but then he insisted Caleb, who was finishing a case a few hours away, come pick me up for the weekend.

"I didn't want to go, Morgan," Sam whispered, hating the grim look in his brother's eyes the day he left and not understanding the look that passed between Dean and Caleb. "It was as if I knew that if I left that something bad would happen to my brother again. Dean swore to me that he was fine when I came back but I should've known by the way he kept his distance that…damn it!"

Trying to figure out what the hell was happening since this was something she hadn't seen or dealt with, Morgan knew it was a memory, a real memory brought out of Dean's hidden subconscious, that he'd kept hidden. Ready to ask what Sam recalled from that time, she stopped as agony ripped into her stomach just as a scream came from the closed hotel room and she knew.

"Bloody hell, no," she whispered, feeling the image slip more into solid form and knowing this was going to be bad. "What the hell did you do to him, John?" she demanded, feeling herself falling into the emotion of the image even as Sam was shouting.

**Flashback:**

"I need him disciplined and right now if I do it the odds are still too heavy that I'd kill him."

Wiping a dirty hand over an oily beard, a tall thin man considered the heavy rod in his hand. "How much can we do?" he asked curiously, knowing that his boys could do a lot if his friend let them.

Glancing back in the door of the run down, pretty much isolated motel room to frown. His anger at losing the entire summer and how his boys had disobeyed were still livid in his mind. "Boy thinks he's all grown up that he can do God knows what with that freak he was with all summer? Time to teach him what being a man means so…do what you want, Elias," John Winchester nodded, taking the duffel bag that he'd seen his eldest put under the bed and dumping it. "I warned him what would happen the next time he disobeyed me and this time I want him to know what each bruise and welt means."

The other man smiled with three teeth missing. "Johnny, leave it to me," he promised, heading back into the room. "By the time we're done, this boy won't ever make a move without your okay again."

A small part of him told John that this was wrong, that he was overreacting but the other part, the hunter in him said that he wasn't raising sons but soldiers and that Dean's mind had been corrupted. He'd made the first move in reeducation by forcing that girl away but as he dug through Dean's duffel to find something, rage hit John when he didn't find the one thing he expected to. "Son of a bitch," he gritted, throwing the duffel down and marching back to the room while reaching for something in his own bag and swearing that time no one would tell him what he could do to his own flesh and blood…

TBC

**Author Note:**_ Not as cliffy as some of my chapters but still enough to leave you wondering. Just what else has Dean hidden from Sam over the years? Just what else has John Winchester done that Bobby and Jim didn't know? And of course, will Sam and Morgan reach Dean with good memories before either his mind destroys him or it destroys them? As always come back for more…_


	16. Chapter 16

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Author Note: **_**Warning!**_ _I'm going to toss this warning up for violence since this scene does show some and fans of John might want to skip ahead. _

**Flashback:**

Gritting his teeth against the sharp, precisely inflicted pain, sixteen year old Dean Winchester was trying to find that other spot to send his mind to rather than focus on what was happening and what he guessed would happen before this night ended.

Dean supposed that this shouldn't have been a surprise to him. He'd known that once his Dad got them clear of Bobby and the shotgun that had been habitually kept out that the anger John still felt would surface in some manner.

Despite his own bitter feelings of loss, hurt, and betrayal over how Morgan had just left them, he'd buried enough of it for the moment that he could focus on making sure to keep between Sam and their Dad.

Sam had been quiet, too quiet, and Dean had a gut feeling that his little brother was keeping something to himself but at that time he'd been too preoccupied with trying not to snap too much at every cold, insulting thing John Winchester had said.

After a couple near verbal fights, John had quieted down and after a quick stop at a fast food place he'd stopped trying to instigate a fight with his oldest but that only heightened Dean's wariness because if he knew two things.

The first was that his Dad had not willingly let them stay out of his control all summer and the other was that John wasn't the kind to overlook anything like that.

For Dean, he knew his Dad and had known the man would strike at him when he least expected it and in the most cruel and hurtful way that he could. That meant that Dean would have to make certain that Sam was kept far away because despite it all he was still prepared to keep that one promise. He'd kill for Sam, no matter who it was.

It wasn't until they came to the motel that Dean's blood began running colder. Normally, even when they were short on cash, John could find cheap but nice motels. This once looked like something out of an old horror movie and when it became clear that their room was the one located the farthest away from the office that he knew.

The presence of the battered old truck also told him things were bad. The final clue was when he noticed the three men waiting and the way John had greeted the older of them. Dean knew he wasn't a genius but he also knew he didn't have to be to figure this out. His Dad was pissed and had called for help.

At this moment, Dean couldn't say what tipped him off to the danger but all he did know was that he wasn't letting Sam enter that room and since he knew he'd probably be back on the receiving end of another beating he didn't hesitate to get in his Dad's face about calling Caleb to come take Sam for the weekend so they could spend it 'hunting'.

Sam, Dean recalled, must have known something was off because normally his brother wouldn't have let him go with anyone but Morgan but now was insisting that he spend the time with Caleb.

Lying to Sam had never been easy, especially when he was using full own teary puppy dog eyes but Dean was willing to take the punishment himself. He was not willing to let these filthy sons of bitches touch his baby brother.

" 'I'll see you on Sunday, Sammy,'" he remembered telling Sam, making sure to keep a hand on his shoulder while shooting his friend a firm look before shifting it over his shoulder at the men talking with John. " 'Listen to Caleb, don't listen to him if he tells you anything about your awesome brother, and…just have fun,'" he'd urged with a smile that he knew was forced, ignoring the alarmed look Caleb gave him while Sam had clung to his waist until the bald young hunter carefully eased the younger boy away.

" 'Ace, what the hell?'" Caleb asked in a whisper even though he suspected that he knew what this was about and cursed that Jim hadn't considered it happening. " 'Let me stay and…'"

Glancing back to see the anger simmering on John's face, Dean quickly just shook his head and looked to where Sam was waiting. " 'Get him out of here and don't let Dad take him if I'm not with him,'" he urged, considering one final thing. " "I don't know what the hell happened or why she took off on me but if it looks like I won't come for Sam then call Pastor Jim. Have him find her because I have to believe that even if what Dad said is true that she won't let Sam be hurt."

" 'Dean!'" John snapped from the door of the room. " 'Let Caleb get on his way and get your ass over here!'"

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and hoping that no one noticed how badly they shook, he nodded to his friend who it was plain had not wanted to leave like this but Caleb had sensed that removing Sam was the best choice.

Dean had waited until after his friend had driven away before turning to gaze at the motel, his green eyes hard as they locked with his Father. "You do what you have to but you will never put your hands on my brother," he declared firmly, not sure whether he'd been tempting fate or just wanting to get that out but the backhand to the face that he had been expecting didn't come.

It was a sharp, unexpected, burst of electricity to the base of the neck that took him down to his knees with a cry of pain that he couldn't suppress. His vision blurred as the taser seemed to fire again and Dean lost consciousness before he heard his Father's next few comments and coming to, a part of him wished that he hadn't lost that blissful peace of darkness.

Instinct had him tensing his arms and that was the first moment he knew panic. The moment he realized through a blurry of haze that his wrists had been tied down to the bed frame with wire that seemed to cut every time he moved them.

"Hey, hotshot. You finally waking up?" a mocking voice entered his ears though the overwhelming smell of alcohol nearly made him throw up faster than the nausea rolling in his stomach. "Your Daddy told ours that we could do whatever we wanted to you. Guess you didn't learn the Golden Rule about always obeying your Father and John wants us to teach you that lesson."

Swallowing hard and refusing to give these two backward rednecks or his Dad the pleasure of hearing him scream, Dean fought the urge as something hard and sharp came down across his bare stomach. "Go…to hell," he gritted, groaning when another weapon was brought out and something that he couldn't see slammed over his left knee and the boy's body jackknifed in pure pain only to find that his whole body had been restrained. "My Dad's not…a coward. Why'd he turn me…over to you two?"

The shorter of the two young rednecks sneered as he and his brother exchanged looks. "Maybe John's busy handling…other stuff," he laughed, twisting the steel rod with barb wire grafted onto it while reaching down to look at something they'd found in the younger man's jeans. "Pretty girl, hotshot. She the one Johnny said tricked you?" he asked with a sneer, holding the photo in front of Dean's hazy eyes and not missing the way those eyes flashed. "Maybe Sully and I should go look her up and see if she'd half of what your Daddy says she is…or maybe your little brother?"

The pain had been dulling the fear that a piece of him knew he should be feeling but when he caught sight of these two morons touching that photo and then when their mocking, subtle threatening words dawned on him, Dean didn't care about the wire that cut him. He just wanted to pound the smirk right off their faces even as his blood ran to ice at the thought of Sam being hurt in any way by them.

"You…touch…either of them…you touch my brother…and I'll…kill you…argh!" despite not wanting to scream, the hard stiff finger jab to the kidneys took him off guard just as a door was slamming open.

"Dean!" John Winchester was furious but instead of coming to the aid of his elder son as most Father's would've done he stormed to the bed to grab a handful of short hair and backhanding the already hurt boy. "Where is it?" he demanded, lifting a hand to strike again. "Where the hell is it? What did you do with it?"

In shock already, Dean had to blink when his eyes seemed to go out of focus but snapped back when a pitcher of ice cold water was thrown in his face. "What?" he managed to get out, feeling blood in his mouth but didn't have the strength to spit it out yet.

He suspected what his Father was looking for and already accepting his nightmares were about to get three times worse but no matter what, he still didn't regret his choice.

Slapping his son hard again, John was enraged almost as much as he had been the day he realized Sam had run away. "Your mother's necklace! I gave it to you so where the hell is it?" he demanded, throwing the empty, inside out duffel bag into a corner. "It's not in the bag or anywhere else you stash stuff so where the hell is it, Dean? I swear if you pawned it or…"

"I…didn't pawn…it," he gasped, fighting to not let his eyes move to the photo but something made him look that way and he knew the moment his Dad picked up on it. "No…Dad…"

"You gave it to that whore?" John didn't figure he could get anymore furious than he was but the thought of his son giving something of Mary's to that…thing made him see red. "You gave your Mother's necklace to that… Dean…you did some stupid shit this summer but I was willing to let it go after you learned never to disobey or fail me. Now…now that I see just how much you had your head screwed with…and who knows what else… well, I guess you need another kind of lesson."

Rage fueling his next decisions, John eyed the sons of his friend before sliding to his own grimly. "Your Dad and I are heading out for the night, I need him alive with no visible bruising to his face or places people will normally see," he told them, seeing his son's glassy green eyes clear briefly as they shot up to his with panic forming now since there was no mistaking what this was. "Other than that, make him see my point of view and teach him about slumming with whores."

John stepped out of the single dirty bedroom and closing the door behind him, the shout he heard first was for him but it wasn't fear but anger. The next sounds should have upset him, should have made him ask what his late wife would think but all he could think was how far his son was from the point where he needed him to be. So without any further thought, he walked out and away from the carnage to come.

Late that night into the early morning, John Winchester made his way back to the shoddy motel. He noticed the pickup was gone and he nodded grimly as he read the note that had been left on the front of the door.

Stepping into the room, he looked around to notice that nothing seemed different in this section so after taking his time to break down his weapons and clean them he was close to deciding to go check to see exactly what had been done in his absence when he heard a step.

"So, we on a better understanding?" he asked without looking up. "I'll call Caleb and tell him we'll pick your brother up tomorrow night. Dean?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," the tone was quiet but clipped but John brushed that off as either pain or embarrassment so he didn't bother to look up until a bloody rag hit the center the of the table and he looked up finally.

Long ago when Dean had still been small, John had taught him how to cover his emotions and also how to hide injuries that would involve social services. Looking now, he saw that the boy had cleaned most of the blood away and the only thing he could see that spoke of this was the hollowness in his eyes and a small mark on his neck that he'd have to tell him to cover before getting to Caleb.

"You got something to say, son?" he asked, figuring he did but knowing that Dean had never been as vocal as Sam in voicing his displeasure. At least until now. "You do know that what I did, what I had them do, was for your own good, don't you?" he asked, seeing the tightening of the jaw. "Dean, I need you at your best. I need you not to hesitate and I have to trust you. I needed your head back in the game…"

"Back in the game?" Dean repeated softly, feeling his fingers want to clench but not wanting to start his wrist bleeding again. "Yeah, I can see where turning those two sadists loose on your son would get his head back in the damn game, Dad," he laughed, feeling his stomach clench again and just wanting to put some distance between himself and John for a few hours until he could bury all the churning emotions, pain and betrayal.

Turning back toward the bathroom, Dean hesitated in the door before looking back at his Father. "I've taken a lot of crap and I've done nearly everything you ever asked of me but I never thought you'd do this just for a lesson or because you're pissed," he began slowly. "I won't tell Bobby or Pastor Jim or even Caleb about what this. Not for you, not because I'm worried that Bobby will pull that shotgun or what Jim could do but because of Sammy.

"I won't tell them about this beating, about the taser and…" he bit off as anger and pain filled him. "I won't tell but you will never mention this to Sam. You will never do to him or allow to be done to him what you just pulled, Dad," Dean went on seriously, no emotion now as he met his Father's dark eyes. "I'll take your beatings and all the crap you want to dish out on me but you will never beat Sam. You will never hurt him and I swear to God, if you ever think of turning him over to one of your cronies…I'll kill the son of a bitch that touches my little brother."

"That include that whore you spent the summer…Dean!" John snapped, shocked not only by the agility his son showed despite the injuries he knew he had but by the fury in his eyes.

Barely stopping himself from slamming a cut hand down on the table or into his Father's face, Dean reined it in for his own sake this time since he knew he couldn't handle another beating this soon but the constant sneering jibes finally made him snap. "Call me a disappointment, call me any goddamn name in the book but I'm tired of you calling her that. I know what you say and I don't know what happened to make Morgan run but the one thing I do know is that she adored Sammy and she wasn't anything like what you keep saying so back the hell off, Dad!"

Storming away to slam the bathroom door, Dean threw the lock and jammed a chair under the knob to make sure he was left alone even though he knew that with as flimsy as the door was his Dad could break it down with one kick. Right then though, he had privacy and that was what he wanted.

Ignoring the bloody rags and towels, Dean slumped to the floor next to the tub where he'd spent the better part of three hours scrubbing until he was certain he'd scrubbed half his skin off.

He had passed out about halfway through this latest punishment as he was certain his Dad would call it and when he came to, he was alone. He'd worked to free one wrist from the wire and by the time he was done he'd been bleeding pretty bad.

Once in the shower, he allowed his thoughts to lose themselves in better ones. Anything to avoid thinking about this night even if he thought about how bad his heart hurt. A piece of him, the cynical teenager, chided him that he'd let himself get in too deep with a girl who clearly had too much of a hidden past to have any real feelings for him. The other part, the side of him that had held her, had spent the summer nights talking quietly, and who had watched her with Sam knew that something else was going on.

That side tried so hard to believe that something had happened at Bobby's that had made Morgan run but he didn't know what. Reaching down for the picture he'd picked up from the floor, he stared at it for a long time while clearly unaware of the tears sliding down his cheeks. "Angel," he whispered, debating with himself on what he'd write in that little private journal he'd been keeping the past several years.

After a couple moments Dean chose to write the recent events in it since he knew no one knew he kept this private journal but it would help Jim and Bobby with Sam if anything ever happened to him. Then he chose to write something else. His hand hurting and shaking, he managed to get most of what he wanted on the paper before folding it up.

Dean knew that he could send the letter to Jim so that it would find her but something told him to wait, to keep it until later. To wait for the right time because deep down Dean understood that sooner or later he and Morgan would meet again and he'd get the truth about it all.

"Assuming I live that long," he muttered, hearing his cellphone ring and knowing the tone. He snatched it up quickly because he didn't want the caller to get pissed and call their Dad. "Hey, Sammy," Dean murmured after taking a deep breath to settle his nerves and the pain. Listening to the rushed words, he knew his brother was scared and worried and closed his eyes. "No, I'm fine and I'll see you tomorrow night," he promised, letting Sam babble on about what Caleb had done and making one final promise to himself. "I will make this right for both of us."

**Present day in Dean's head:**

"If the SOB wasn't dead and I didn't want Bobby to have a fit I'd tell Jack to resurrect him just so I could rip his bloody heart out and feed it to him," Morgan was beyond furious and it showed in the way her accent had all but disappeared. "Sam…"

Still staring at the fading image and unaware that while the basic memory faded, the scene itself remained as Sam's own memories shook him deeply.

"He told me that nothing bad happened. That he and Dad talked it out, that the mark on his neck was a razor burn," he whispered, beginning to shake. "Dean swore that Dad was fine…that he was fine. He made that damn excuse that I shouldn't hug him cause he'd strained…why would he lie to me?" that was what he couldn't understand.

Sam knew how much honesty meant to his brother so to now learn that Dean had lied to him was confusing if not hurtful.

"Because Dean loves you, silly," Morgan replied, understanding why Dean would keep this from Sam even if she didn't agree with it. "He knew how scared you were back then and he'd protect you from anything that he could…though if I find out that the bald kid knew and had told Jim about it and I didn't hear it then Jack is definitely resurrecting someone so I can kill him," she promised.

"Oh, I don't think you'd do that to Jim, considering what he was."

The voice had Sam going white because he recalled fears from his childhood and from the past month when he'd been possessed. "Dad," he whispered.

"Hello, Sam," John Winchester or his form in this reality greeted from where he stepped from the rundown room. "Is that any way to greet your Father, Sammy?"

Feeling himself shake more, Sam was about to take an instinctive step forward just as an arm shot across his chest to stop him.

"Go find Dean, Sam," Morgan's eyes had narrowed at the sight of the spirit or astral form of the senior Winchester. "Just follow the lighter images. Keep talking to him and make him listen to you," she told him, feeling a difference in the energy in the astral zone they were in but wasn't certain if it was a good change or not. "I'll…shield you for as long as I can from them."

Blinking, Sam stared between his father and his friend before her words hit him with a chilling realization. "Morgan…no. What're you…Dean needs…"

"You're brother needs a lot right now, Sammy but she's far from it," John sneered, his gaze cold and hateful as he took in the sight of this young woman that he despised so much shielding his younger son. "You got past both Dean and Sammy's guards despite those damn abilities you have but do you really think either of my boys would stick it out if they learn the truth?" he asked, glancing at Sam to see the confusion. "Your brother isn't the only one lying to you, Sam. Of course, Jim lied to since he knows…"

The wood of the door cracked as Morgan's eyes narrowed. "You don't know anything about me, old man and keep Jim out of this," she warned tightly, not sure how this was happening because since Dean didn't know this part of her life then his mind conjured images shouldn't…unless… "Bloody hell."

John's spirit wasn't a surprise to her since she understood that John would have an easier time gaining access to his sons thoughts but after John had possessed Sam last month she had believed that Jack's spells had dealt with him.

His presence here warned her that they had underestimated the Angel's cunning because where the Angels had once brought back the ghosts of those the Winchesters had failed…now it was plain that Zachariah had used Dean's weakened, drugged mind to bring forth spirits once again. Only this time, it could be deadly for all of them.

"Not all the things you see here are just images," John told them, frowning at the distant scream. "None of this should be happening like this but you keep interfering," he glowered. "Want me to tell Sam the one thing that you've kept from Dean all these years?"

Having a hard enough time managing this place, she did not need this crap so Morgan nudged Sam again. "Go find Dean. I'll catch up," she urged quickly, eyes not leaving the older man until she felt Sam's hesitance. "Sammy, we need Dean to wake up. If his core self has even slight memories of what happened he's going to avoid me but he will respond to you," moving her hand slowly to grip his, she passed something from her pocket to him. "The blood transfusion should have lessened his rages and the drugs but he'll still be scared so be careful, look for a common image and if you hit a flashback just go through it because these are still being used to hurt us and him."

"Morgan?" Sam looked at what was in his hand to her eyes, catching both the pain but also guilt. "What's he mean? What this about?"

Needing Sam out of this area before things got worse, she shook her head. "Sammy, there were reasons I kept from you and Dean things like how I met Jim and if we make it out of here alive then I'll tell you but…go, Sam!" she snapped, using a small amount of energy to move Sam out of this image into the closest one that didn't feel entirely dark.

"They won't survive this," John told her grimly, showing the knife he held in his hand and smiled when she tensed. "You remember this knife then? You've felt it a couple times…though Dean kept me from using it that third one…in Boston."

Memories of Boston when she was nineteen were spotty at best for her since the only thing she recalled was the damn concussion she got while checking on a supposed haunting in one of the older cemeteries.

"I remember it but can't say Boston was one of those," Morgan admitted, feeling her arm tingle and praying that she could keep the power up long enough for Sam to succeed. "Alastair was right, wasn't he? You knew all along what would happen to the boys, what they're being used for."

"I learned something was planned when Sam was still young," John admitted, running his thumb along the edge of the knife. "Finding Mary's killer was my prime goal but I also knew that my boys were destined for something so I needed to make sure they were both prepared for what would come. You were a problem in those plans."

"Because I wouldn't let you abuse your sons or because Dean actually might have led his own life if I had stayed close to them?" Morgan countered, whirling when the image vanished only to appear right behind her and she felt the blade slice into her already injured arm.

The moment the blade slashed, John had grabbed her by the throat. "I should've killed you the first day I saw you but Jim was too good at keeping that little lie. I found out when Jeff showed up to warm me to avoid Jim after I made the error of not letting you die in San Antonio. He explained why Jim was so pissed off and I found out the rest on my own," he tightened his grip with a cold hate in his eyes as he slammed the girl onto the hood of the Impala that was still present in the image. "I would've killed Dean myself before he went any farther with you…in fact, it wasn't until that night in Texas that I was convinced that my son hadn't ruined himself by sleeping with you.

"Did I set Dean up for what happened in Hell?" a mild shrug as the knife touched her throat as if knowing that the girl's strength was fading. "Maybe but Alastair made Dean strong so that when Michael does take him that he will survive. We just have to make sure you're dead."

Silently cursing the drugs she'd been hit with that was making her veins burn and her vision blur again, Morgan struggled to free herself if only to protect her friends when something hit her. "We?" she gasped, right arm all but numb again as something shimmered from beyond her line of sight and only for a moment. "Who'd…you make…a deal with and…?"

"Zachariah said that if I helped him get rid of you then I could be reunited with my wife," John shrugged, seeing the surprise in her eyes. "You expected me to make a deal for the boys? To stop them from being used like this? They each made their choices so now it's time for me to be with Mary and…what?"

Looking down in surprise at a burning cold seemed to piece his chest, just above his heart. "No…this isn't… who?"

"Your wife wouldn't have you after the crap you did to her sons…Dad."

**Back out in the Panic Room:**

If he couldn't paced, Bobby Singer would have paced clear to Maine by now or that's how he felt as he was forced to sit in the wheelchair while Jack MacShayne and the older, colder version of 'Dean Winchester' from the future struggled to control the situation.

"What the hell's this about?" Jack was swearing in every dead language he knew and a few he knew had Castiel's eyebrows shooting up. "Ideas?"

'Dean' was trying to see through the link but he wasn't liking how dark it felt or how shady it was. He'd prepared for the ultimate intervention but was hoping it wouldn't come to that. Now he wasn't so sure.

They had been running a constant supply of blood into Dean to try to purge the ancient drugs from his system and it seemed to be working by the way Dean's body was relaxing even though he did occasionally still jerk and mumble too quietly to be heard.

Castiel was able to get close enough that the young hunter didn't react violently but no one wanted to risk letting the Angel touch him yet.

It was when Dean stopped yelling at the images to stop and when he started calling for his brother and Morgan, his voice concerned, that the alternate 'Dean' began paying closer attention. He caught the moment when his younger self's fingers closed around the two items that would connect him to the two people still important to him.

"Dean?" moving carefully so he didn't interrupt any connection, he gently peeled back one eyelid to shine a tiny light into it and noticed that Dean's green eye immediately reacted to light, which was a good sign. The bad came the moment Sam tensed and Morgan's body jerked violently a second before blood began seeping from a new gash on her arm. "Shit!"

"This is bad," Jack caught a couple pressure pads from the kit that Bobby tossed his way but stepped back when 'Dean' took them from him and began applying pressure to the young woman's arm. "Her and Sam ran into something nasty."

Pushing the link harder than he expected would be needed, 'Dean' caught one flash that made his blood run cold. "Dad," he whispered then caught himself, remembering that the John Winchester encountered in Dean's mind would not be the man he knew. "Zach's pulling out the stops because we're not dealing with images," he muttered sourly, not knowing why he hadn't seen this coming. "Dean's mind is weak which is allowing the Angels to give it access to spirits and not all of them are good and helpful."

"Someone remind me to have you bring him back so I can shotgun his ass out of existence," Bobby growled, rolling forward to see the thin line of blood coming out of Sam's mouth. "Hey, idjits. This is more bad news, right?"

Taking a look, Jack swore and locked eyes on the alternate version of his less than favorite hunter. "We need to stop this before we lose all of 'em."

Knowing this and understanding what was more than likely happening inside the normally hardheaded skull of Dean Winchester and that he needed to do something…even if it did cost him everything.

"Contact your brother, tell him to go to Chuck and instruct him what to write," he held up a sheet of paper with various scenarios written on it while he concentrated on the items in his hand. "He'll bitch about interfering but it's not when Zachariah's already done that."

Eyeing the paper, Jack's lips thinned as he read a few things he didn't like but did make the paper vanish as he gave his older brother a silent shout to bring him up to speed. "This isn't a…"

"I'm losing that link, Jack," 'Dean' cut him off grimly, feeling a coldness in the room that hadn't been there before. "I'm not sure if it's because Dean's getting stronger or Morgan's getting weaker but there's something deep inside this kid that doesn't want them, none of them, to wake up and they need help."

"That bald son of a bitch counted on that and blocked you," Bobby caught the tail end of that conversation and got what this harder man was planning. "So, how can you get inside even if that wouldn't make it worse?"

Lifting the glass he'd had sitting beside him, 'Dean' just lifted an eyebrow much like Bobby was used to his own boy doing and knew what was in it. "Dreamroot," he growled, hating that stuff. "Do I want to know why you just happen to have that on you?"

"Always come prepared," 'Dean' smirked, whirling to grab for Sam just as the boy's shoulders jerked on the floor and something like a bone sounded like it snapped. "Jack, tell Ethan to have Chuck write and write fast! It doesn't matter what he sees about me but he needs to protect them and get them the hell out of there!" he snapped, downing the drink before the mystic or Angel or hunter could say another word.

"Easier said than done, sport," Jack muttered, dropping to the floor to catch the time displaced hunter just as his eyes rolled back and he went limp. "Singer, remind me that if I do get everyone out of this alive that I am not letting these three outta my damn sight until I can find a way to deal with my goddamn relatives," he growled, snatching the phone up without looking at it. "Prophet or not, Eth, get him to write us something good or we're out of a job and this planet burns!"

Noticing that Dean's face was tensing again, Bobby considered the odds. "This gonna work?" he asked warily, hoping that someone could help the kids since he really couldn't see his life without taking care of these idjits.

Wincing as his phone rang with a more familiar tone, Jack wanted to just vanish back into some other dimension but as he reached for the cell phone he gave Bobby a fatalistic shrug. "If you have a God then pray to it because even I'm not certain," he replied then keyed his phone. "Kel, this is so not a good time to call me because you won't like the news I have…"

**The House of the Prophet called Chuck:**

"This is not good, not good at all," the scruffy Prophet had been drinking steadily since his last visitors had left and the painful visions began coming.

He'd written things that turned his stomach, made him cry, and figured would get him burned sooner or later. He'd seen other images that he also immediately saw rewrite itself, which relieved him since he knew it would be really bad if Sam had given himself to Lucifer.

Now though he was struggling through a barrage of plots that he just couldn't bring himself to write. This hadn't been so bad for him before he learned that the two young men in question were real and everything he wrote affected them directly.

Sending Dean to Hell had been bad enough on his nervous system but if he was forced to write the scene that was banging in his skull to get out…Chuck considered the pistol on the desk even though that bald stuck up asshole had already warned him about considering it.

"Zachariah isn't quite as all powerful as he likes to think."

Dropping the nearly empty bottle of Scotch, Chuck gasped when he looked up to see the tall, black haired man in a leather jacket leaning against his desk with flashing blue eyes that warned him even before he slumped back in his chair.

"You're like that guy with Sam earlier," he groaned, hating this so much because these guys gave him more of a headache than the visions did.

Eyeing the bearded, robe wearing Prophet closer, Ethan MacShayne seemed far more amused than his younger brother had been but then he understood that there was so much more to this nerd than what was obvious. "I don't think we need to get into exactly what or who I am since I'm well aware of exactly who and what you are," he returned easily, ignoring the confused stare he got for the moment to focus on the reason he was there. "Here. Write this or if it diverges too much from that then tell me and write exactly what I tell you."

"Huh?" looking at the papers the new arrival had dropped on his cluttered desk, Chuck felt like choking as he read some of this but could see how it would work. "This could work with some minor adjusting…if nothing else happens to them or if no one comes to smite me from interfering," he admitted, eyes glancing out the windows as if expecting the house to begin shaking.

"Archangels are the least of your worries, 'Chuck'," Ethan told him, dropping his jacket over a chair to pull it next to the desk. "I can handle my family. You just worry about getting the Winchesters and my friend out of this while my brother handles the rest," he urged, feeling the threat close by but knowing the greater threat wasn't to the 'Prophet' and wondering if it wasn't time to surprise Zachariah one last time.

As Chuck wrote quickly to try to work damage control, Ethan's eyes closed as he felt the disturbance only a second before a step was heard in the door and he rolled his eyes. "Out of them all, you show up?" he stood slowly to keep between the newly arrived Archangel and the sweating Prophet. "Keep writing because if you let any of them die, it won't be an Angel or Archangel that kills you," he then returned his attention to the other. "Well? Smiting or snooping?"

Considering the sweating, shaking little mortal to the darkening eyes of the mystic, a sound of crumpling paper was heard before the candy wrapper hit the floor. "Hey, Eth. How about you, me, and the nerd talk?"

"Talk about what?" Ethan asked, rolling his eyes as another piece of candy was eaten as the shorter, curly haired man flopped on the paper littered sofa to thrust his arm into the air.

"About how to go about saving my two favorite dimwits from themselves and maybe one day making baby Dean's…if he lives? Oh and of course, sending Zach's grand plan into the literal doghouse?" tossing a piece of chocolate into his mouth he sent a grin toward the now wary young mystic. "Eth, aren't I your favorite Uncle? Have I ever led you down a bad…okay, ignoring that one time when you were twelve…"

Feeling Jack's stress across the miles, Ethan considered it before nodding. "Fine, tell me what you got," he decided not to tell his brother about this since Jack didn't trust anyone right now and he wasn't bound to trust either Tricksters or Archangels posing as the annoying demigod.

**Dean's mind, somewhere:**

"Dammit!" Sam hated it when Morgan tried to keep him safe and by protecting him she'd left herself wide open to attack.

Grabbing onto the first solid thing he could touch to steady himself after he found himself elsewhere in his brother's mindscape, Sam took a moment to clear his eyes and soon wished he hadn't. "Oh, God," he breathed, feeling his stomach drop and then flip. "Not this."

Sam had been confused with how solid and real his Dad had seemed and he had sensed that Morgan was more than a little concerned with the way some of the images were putting themselves out. Now he got it. Whatever this was, this wasn't all his brother's mind. Someone else was playing and he felt himself getting sick.

While John was a huge threat to Morgan, Sam still harbored his own memories, his own fears of his father that his brother never learned. Though his worst memory of his childhood or his past would have been when he was seventeen.

His Dad had sent Dean off to hunt with Caleb for a month despite his brother's bitter arguments to be allowed to take Sam with them but John had refused with some excuse that he wanted the time to teach Sam himself since Dean was often too soft on him.

Fists clenching at his sides, Sam struggled to push this memory aside since he knew it was only being used to slow him down in his quest to find his brother but it was so damn hard to ignore the betrayal, the pain, and finally the desolation he'd felt when he'd nearly taken his knife to his own wrists.

Watching the memory unfold as John once again turned to others to teach his son a so-called 'lesson', he recalled the fight with his Dad over his John's bitter hatred toward a girl that Sam still considered a friend. Sam also recalled the fist to his face when John had struck him and then things became scattered after that when something struck his neck.

Timelining it now, Sam realized that his Father must have gone to Boston during the time that his ex-Vietnam veteran friend had kept him locked in a run-down room for close to a week before finally slipping up and giving the semi-lucid boy a shot at using the skills his brother had taught him to escape if only long enough to make the call that had saved his life.

"John was right about you," a voice that still made Sam's skin crawl spoke from behind him even as something slammed into the small of his back, dropping him to his knees when a steel toed boot kicked him repeatedly in the gut and made him spit blood. "You're a failure as a son, a hunter, a brother. Pity I didn't have the time to really teach you what your old man wanted."

Fear from the past blossomed until Sam's thoughts clicked back into gear and he knew he had to get past this to save himself, his brother and their friend but before he could move a strong hand grabbed his wrist and he screamed as he felt the bone break in his arm.

"Good thing I still have that chance, boy," the big red haired man sneered, pulling a gun out to aim it at Sam's head while slipping the safety off. "Of course, first thing we're doing is making sure you don't run away again," he laughed, aiming it at Sam's leg. "Then, it won't be Lucifer you're bowin' to…"

A gunshot fired and a scream was heard from far away…

TBC

**Author Note: **_I know, I know. Another cliffey ending. I swear these just pop up. As things come to a boiling point in Dean's mind, will Sam and Morgan survive long enough to even find Dean or is there someone else who will get to him first? Can the future Dean help or make it worse and just what can Chuck do? Come back soon to find out._


	17. Chapter 17

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Dean's mind, Morgan's location:**

"Your wife wouldn't have you after the crap you did to her sons…Dad."

The curved neatly engraved knife had pieced the spirit form of John Winchester right above his heart but it wasn't just the blade that was shocking but the voice that accompanied it.

Gasping in burning pain and shock, John was forced to release the hold he still had on Morgan to drop to his knees and stared at what was behind him, the source of the attack. "Sam…" he spit blood as he took a harder look when it dawned on him slowly. "You…you're not…"

"No, I'm not your son. I'm not the boy you constantly hurt, bereted, belittled and humiliated," the tall young man with brown hair worn in a longer style than what this time's Sam Winchester ever allowed his to get agreed while stepping between an injured John and the young British woman. "Take your own advice and run," he spoke while allowing hazel eyes to gentle when he glanced down at her. "Go, Morgan. He won't hurt you again but the others need you now."

Still trying to get her limbs to move as it seemed like the drugs and wounds were once again affecting her, Morgan stared at this new arrival who was so much like the Sam she knew it was scary. "You're…his…"

Making certain that John wasn't a threat for the time, 'Sam Winchester' from that other time reached to carefully pull the young woman to her feet and steady her for a brief time. "You need to find Sam and Dean, your Sam and Dean, and get out of this place," he told her quietly, not liking the wounds he saw because they reminded him too much of another time, another place. Things that his own brother didn't know and never would. "Go and if I can I'll catch up…go, now!" he snapped, feeling the time was right as he nudged her away from him before turning to grab the bloody hand that was reaching for her. "No, you won't touch her again. Now you can deal with me but unlike your own son, I'm a bit different but then so are you.

"My Dad was a cold blooded, self serving bastard who sold his sons out in a lot of ways and he did things that no sane normal man would ever think of but even he wouldn't think of doing the things that you have or not to the extent," he shook his head as if considering the blade in his hand before he twisted the wrist he still held and the weakening spirit form seemed to flash for a moment before going down onto his knees.

"You did things that even my Dad would've been impressed by but on the other hand…you did things that my brother would've killed our Dad over," 'Sam Winchester' took in the memory around him and immediately understood how different this time and place was from where he grew up. "I thought my brother would kill Dad when he set Morg up with those hunters in that damn cabin. You're a spirit trying to ravage a mind already too broken. You're a spirit trying to finish breaking what you couldn't fully break when alive," he held up the knife so that John's eyes could see it and smiled thinly when it must have been recognized. "My sister-in-law gave me this on my twenty-first birthday. She called it a spirit blade and I think you can guess why."

Before John could react, the blade slashed with a brutal efficiency that the Sam from this period hadn't acquired yet and he vanished the moment it connected with his throat. "Go back to hell…Dad."

"And you thought ours was bad."

Freezing at the voice that spoke from behind him. Even though this form that had come into Dean's mindscape appeared younger than he would've been in his own time, he possessed all the memories. Including the darker ones, the ones that he wished he didn't have.

The last time he had heard this voice, truly heard it, was on the night his whole world had crumbled and he'd lost the very things that he had so desperately wanted to save.

" 'Dean,'" he whispered, turning slowly to face the older brother he'd always looked up to even at moments when they were at each other's throats…even at the last moment he'd seen his brother through the eyes of Lucifer. "Why…?"

"I can take a guess as to why you're here, Sam but I'm not sure. It could be something Chuck's writing or it could be because I asked for someone to help them but I'm…not sure," 'Dean' shrugged, really hating all this astral stuff and hating having to be inside the mind of this younger version of himself but what he hated right then was the fear in the eyes of the brother he'd given up on. "Hey, kiddo."

The more casual greeting caused a laugh since his brother hadn't used it in such a long time. 'Sam' held back while watching this scene slowly fade into gray because they held no common link to this mind. "This real?" he asked quietly, recalling the memory rush he'd experienced when first arriving wherever this was but his eyes were concentrating on his brother and picking up the things only he and one other would notice.

His brother seemed leaner, his features harder but there was something underneath, something in those green eyes that 'Sam' understood. His brother was shielding again. Shielding his true emotions, his honest feelings, the pain and loss behind a wall of stoic, cynic sarcasm.

"Real is as real ever was as Morgan liked to say," 'Dean' shrugged then sighed at the look he received. "This place is real, the mind is of a younger version of me and it's real," he replied, going on before the next question could be asked. "Zachariah brought me back to life and offered me a chance to fix it and I fell for…don't roll your damn eyes at me, Sam."

The so familiar eye-roll made 'Dean' ache for the easier times in his life before it had all gone wrong but he knew time was limited and things still needed to be done if this world stood a shot at surviving.

"How many times did Zach lie to you, Dean?" 'Sam' thought he understood what had happened and why his Angel hating brother had trusted the deceitful one for a final time. "He offered you the chance to save our time. You did know that messing with this one really wouldn't alter ours in that way…you didn't."

"I didn't realize the differences between here and there until it was too late, until I realized that this Dean had lost fifteen years with Morgan," 'Dean' scuffed a toe much like he would when having to admit a mistake to his brother or wife. "He said that it could change, that he'd…he said she didn't have to die and that…damn it, Sam."

'Sam' then understood the lies that his brother had been told that would make him so willing to take another' life in a different timeline. Despite believing what he had for so long about him, about how his wife had died, his big brother was still trying to protect him.

"He told you that it would all go away," he guessed grimly, seeing the muscles in the opposite face twitch and knowing he was right. "Zachariah promised to bring Morgan back and to make certain that I never accepted Lucifer or something along those lines. Dean…"

"I failed you and Morg so much, Sam, that I just grasped for that last little straw that could give me back the three things that I loved but if I can't salvage this for them then I pray I die again because I can't handle knowing what I caused," 'Dean' stared at the rings in his hand but then reached into the pocket of the military style jacket for something. "I know that our time is probably shot to hell because of how bad Dean's hurt and it's all been wiped away but while I have the time…this is yours."

Blinking at the item being held out to him, 'Sam' actually felt his eyes burn. "You…kept it?" he slowly reached out to take the rubber black band that was something both he and his brother had. "Why? You believed or still believe that I…Dean, I never could hurt Morgan. I loved her because she loved you and took care of me when no one else would've even considered it."

Feeling the edge of the scene changing, 'Dean' knew the time was getting short and he knew there would never be enough time to say to the brother he'd lost what he wanted or needed to. "I know and I know she loved you too because that was one of the last things she said to me. I can't make this right for you now, Sam and I can't give us the family that I promised both you and Morg that I would but I have to try to fix this for these kids so that maybe, in the end, they can have happily ever after."

"Time's running out, Dean," 'Sam' warned him, hearing something calling from far off but a piece of him wanted to stay as if knowing his brother's ultimate plan. "Zachariah won't let things go this easily. He wants them dead…he wants her dead, Dean."

"I'll take care of it," 'Dean' promised, seeing the shimmering begin and swallowed hard. "Sam…" he stopped after locking eyes with his little brother who looked exactly as he had before the nightmares began. "I…I'm…"

A wind seemed to blow through the changing scene and a familiar scent gave both displaced brothers a chill because easily recognized it. "I'll take care of her until you cross again," 'Sam' assured him shakily, stepping back before allowing his brother the chance to reach out to him because he knew the second that 'Dean' broke that barrier, broke that last restraint to open himself to those emotions again that he'd never be strong enough for what he'd need to do. "Good bye, Dean,"

"Good bye…Sammy," 'Dean' whispered, running a hand over his face but ignored the wetness he felt as he fisted the rings he held and focused on what he needed. "Time to find the kids and stop this crap," he decided, whirling as multiple screams were heard and a cold feeling in his heart told him to get moving before Zachariah ultimately won. "Not like this, you bald bastard. You won't take them like this."

**Elsewhere in Dean's Mind:**

Unaware of what exactly was going on or really where he was, Dean Winchester wiped the sweat off his forehead as he reached for a different size socket wrench to try to force loose a stubborn bolt on the old Mustang that was determined to be the bane of his life.

Blinking as both sweat and sun got into his eyes, he shook his head to clear his vision but frowned when once again he noticed his arms were tore up with bruises, cuts and burns that he couldn't place and his mind flashed with images.

"Damn," he growled when the wrench slipped and his knuckles scraped against the engine. "This piece of junk hates me."

"That's certainly what Bobby used to say…though he often said that it was a mutual hate."

Forgetting the throbbing of his hand, the frustration of the car, and the annoying images that have been plaguing him, Dean slowly turned while almost casually reaching for a dirty rag laying next to him but also the knife that was underneath it. "Jim," he nodded toward the older man that he had known since he was a kid.

Jim Murphy or Pastor Jim as the Winchester boys were prone to call him had been a mentor, a friend, a surrogate father at times, and a protector most of those times.

After the summer of 1994 the times that John worked with or associated with the Pastor and hunter decreased severally and Dean had always wondered why. Neither his Father nor Jim, on the few times Dean would see him, would talk about it.

Of course, Jim's attitude toward John Winchester had changed completely two years later and this was something that Dean had never learned the cause of either. Right then, the older man looked the same as he had the last time he could recall seeing him…four weeks after the fire in Stanford and he'd taken his grieving little brother to Jim's place for a chance to rest and restart.

"You seriously going to reach for the knife, Dean?" Jim arched a brow at the young man that he had seen grow up in this life and had read the intention the moment the boy turned. "Though I suppose I should be thankful it's not a face full of Holy water or a gun…not that it would do any good."

Staring hard at the man, Dean noticed that the older man was wearing his usual Pastor clothes rather than the hunting ones or his more casual clothes. Considering that Jim had been dead nearly as long as his own Father, he was more than wary to see him now.

"You're dead," he declared grimly, stepping away from the car slowly but not taking his eyes off a man that he still considered a huge part of his and Sam's life…a man that had saved his life more than once but who also was put into a difficult situation the years before Dean learned exactly why…he winced as a burning shot down his back. "Am I?"

"What do you remember, Dean?" Jim asked seriously, making no sudden moves as he approached the elder Winchester to stand near the old Mustang in the back of the Singer Salvage Yard.

Reaching for the wrench again, a one-shouldered shrug was seen and a dead giveaway to the young hunter's uneasiness. "Pick a time. I don't forget anything that's ever gone on so…"

"After the Angels grabbed you at Bobby's," Jim cut in and didn't miss the way the boy tensed. "After they drugged you and tortured you…after they made you hurt…Dean!"

Tossing the wrench into the small tool kit on the ground next to him, Dean spun away from the car as if going to head back to the house but stopped after two steps. "Am I dead?" he asked again, voice tighter as it would get when he was struggling to cover emotions he'd never allow anyone to see.

"No, not yet," Jim replied, leaning against the car to watch and was honestly surprised by what he saw in Dean's actions.

Dean, for as long as Jim had known him, had been the stoic, more sarcastic of John's sons. He rarely showed any true deep emotions unless it was toward his brother…except for the times when Jim had seen the boys with Morgan and then Dean was open.

Now he noticed the twitching muscles in his arms and neck, the restless movements of his hands and the way he kept shifting from one foot to another. Jim had seen this very few times in Dean's life and usually it was after something traumatic had happened.

"You are hurt and to escape the pain and trauma you put your mind deep down in your subconscious," he went on, looking around the junkyard curiously. "I am a little surprised at your mind's choice of a comfort zone though," he admitted dryly, smiling a little. "I would've expected a bar or something a little more…lively would be where you'd go to find peace. Why Bobby's?"

Looking up at the sky, Dean paused for a long moment before turning back to eye his long time mentor curiously. "This isn't real?" he didn't seem quite surprised by this but he still kept his distance as if not fully trusting this image.

"No. You're body is in Bobby's Panic Room along with Bobby, a guy in a trenchcoat, the one MacShayne brother that I didn't like and…" Jim again caught the way Dean tensed but plunged on to see the full reaction. "Sam and Morgan are with you too, Dean but…things aren't looking good for the three of you."

"Things haven't been good for me and Sam in a while, Jim," Dean muttered, walking back to the car but didn't pick up a tool but instead went for the knife. "That's also how I know your nothing but another of Zachariah's goddamn images."

Even confused and hurt, Dean's agility was still high so he expected the blade to connect when he lunged at the form of his former mentor but only grunted when he seemed to pass through the now disgusted spirit. "I remember getting sick after that kid snatched Sammy's body and I know I was at Bobby's when my genius little brother stole my baby to go help…Morgan was hurt, scared when I talked to her cause that damn Angel sent the me from the future back here and…" he paused to roll to his feet but stopped upon seeing the calm look in the older set of eyes.

"I know you're a lie because the last thing I did before I couldn't fight it anymore was to block Morgan. I felt her and I knew she was scared but I wanted her and Sam kept out of this so I shut the link down," he recalled this because it was his last solid good thought before the agony began. "Morgan can't have access to my mind to be in here…"

"Future you…I won't mention what Jack's been calling him, did a spell that gave the kids access but something kept him out," Jim told him, knowing it would take some time to convince Dean of this but aware that it was time he didn't have and decided to cut some of it off at the pass. "You were fifteen the night you first met Morgan in some cemetery in a little town that John had parked you and Sam at while he hunted. It was also the first time you ever saw a zombie and, I quote, got your cocky butt handed to you by a little girl."

Green eyes rolled on instinct but the knife was gripped tighter. "Zach hurt Morgan in New Orleans to find out about us so the Angels know all about that," he smirked, tilting his head in a way that the older man knew was pure confrontation and supposed he hadn't taken into account how wary and mistrustful Dean had become over the years. "Try again. Zach and the goons have been watching me my whole damn life so I doubt if you can tell me anything that I don't…"

"I can tell you the one thing that Morgan won't. The one thing that you've always badgered me about," Jim interrupted swiftly, not liking that it had come to this but also accepting that this had to stop. "I can tell you how Morgan and I met."

Pausing in mid-motion, Dean considered that offer before looking around as if hearing or feeling something before shrugging it off in order to concentrate on this time. "You're a lie. An image conjured up just like all the rest to hurt me or make me…" he refused those thoughts, brushed them off as nightmares since his clear mind just wasn't ready to accept them yet.

He also wasn't ready to accept the sharp pain of an open hand slapping him across the face either as Jim Murphy's temper finally hit the boiling point. "Dean Winchester, I have known you to be a stubborn, hardheaded, obstinate jackass at times but you've topped yourself with this," he snapped, grabbing the boy by the shoulders to shove him back against the Mustang and making sure to hold him there carefully since he knew on instinct how either of the boys reacted to things like this. "I have watched you take care of your brother since the first night I came across your Father on a hunt. I was there to see both you and Sam grow up and I was there when you had your heart broke but refused to show it.

"I could tell you what I know about Morgan keeping tabs on you and Sam since the day she ran from Bobby's, I could tell you the reason I wanted to ram a knife through your father two years later when I learned what he did in Texas and I could tell you about every time she came to me or called me bitching about some stupid stunt you'd pulled or about Malibu Barbie living with Sam," Jim went on, giving one shake to force the younger man to settle down since pinning Dean like this was usually how he would calm him down if he had to get between Father and son.

The rather insulting nickname for Sam's former girlfriend made Dean pause in weakly trying to break free as he finally slumped back against the car to meet the serious eyes of the Pastor. "Not sure if an image would know Morgan's nickname for Jessica or not," he mumbled, wincing as a hand gently slapped him in the back of the head. "She really hated her."

"No, she hated that one girl you were with in Indiana. She just very vocally disliked Sam's girl," Jim corrected mildly, stepping back slightly to watch the boy before taking a chance. "Dean, there are reasons that Morgan never wanted you to know how I met her and maybe they were legitimate. I hope not because I'd hate to think that I'd misjudged you so badly that you'd turn on her or keep Sam from her for something that wasn't her fault."

"I watched her zap a zombie into dust, Jim…if that's who you really are, so I knew about the powers the first night," Dean scoffed, staying by the car as if gaining strength from it as he watched the older man begin to pace. A trait he knew his friend only did when uneasy about something. "I never would turn on her because of…you don't mean her powers," he suddenly saw it and frowned. "Jim? What the hell would keep her or you from telling me how a hunter met someone with her powers? Why would she be afraid of me turning on her or keeping Sam, who adored her from that first night, away?"

Guessing that he'd been given time, Jim Murphy offered a silent apology for breaking the one thing he'd reluctantly promised to keep from the boys and turned to watch Dean. "I was hunting something up in upper New York, the Hudson Valley, in 1983," he began slowly, deciding how much to reveal and how much he'd leave up to the young woman in question. "I don't recall what it was but it was supposed to be taking young girls from the surrounding area which seemed to happen only every other moon cycle so at first I thought it was an off-kilter werewolf.

"I stayed at a local Bed and Breakfast in a small town that bordered the woods where I thought this thing might be lairing up. The couple had a sixteen-year-old son and…" he paused for a moment to be certain he had Dean's full attention before continuing. "…and a three year old foster daughter. She was a beautiful little girl, Dean. Long blond hair and big blue eyes that just watched you and it seemed like those eyes could see into a person's soul but something felt wrong.

"Most little kids, hell, you know what Sam was like at three, were usually running around, playing or getting into things. This little girl didn't do any of that…in fact, when I saw her at all, she was normally standing perfectly still as if afraid to move and the second she saw the son, she'd run and try to hide," Jim glanced at his hand as if seeing something until a sound made him look up to see that Dean was watching him fully. "The son gave me bad vibes. He was the kind that you would've pulled a gun on the second you met him or gave him the normal big brother protective speech but I was hunting so I ignored the signs."

Dean hadn't been paying right off until something in the Pastor's voice tipped him off. Jim was angry but covering it and that always bore watching so he went back around to close the hood of the Mustang, sitting on it to listen to the rest of this but so far not understanding how this connected the hunter/Pastor with their mutual friend.

Then it slowly began to sink in and casualness turned to wariness as he listened closer. "So what was it?"

"I didn't find a monster in those woods, Dean. The monsters I found were a lot closer to home as I learned when I went back to get my stuff from the B&B," Jim replied grimly, still seeing this image despite all the years it had been and even being dead didn't lessen the rage he felt. "I went back and the house felt wrong. It had an evil feeling to it. Then I heard the baby crying and that's when I fully understood that not all the evil in this world came from the supernatural."

Walking back over to stand by the car, he caught the muscle twitches in the young man's face and knew that Dean probably suspected what he was building up to but knowing that he could never make him understand the horror that he'd seen that night. The horror that little girl had endured.

"The sounds were coming from the basement which I found odd at three in the morning so I went to look and Dean, I swear that no matter how long I'd been hunting that I had never seen anything as vile, as sick or twisted as what I found in that cellar," he sighed, still hearing the screams even as he could still see the blood. "It turned out that the owners of the B&B were Satan lovers and their cult were kidnapping young girls to use as sacrifices so they had it all.

"Black alter, candles, dead animals, a goat's head hanging above this alter that had the latest girl to go missing already bled out while they were still reciting chants in Latin to their Dark God but what pissed me off and what made me react wasn't that. It was what that sadistic little bastard was doing to that little girl that made me step in and I blew his head off without a single second thought," Jim heard the breath next to him get ragged and knew by the clenched fist laying on the hood that the boy was following him. "The Father came at me with a sword and got the next shot in the chest but it was the woman who really floored me because she didn't beg for her life or scream at me for what I'd done to her son and husband.

"No, she just went to tell me that they'd intentionally fostered the girl because they knew what she was. That it didn't matter if they or their son abused, tortured, or molested a three year old little girl because she was Satan's spawn anyway," still hearing those words, the cold, emotionless tone made him sick but then he remembered seeing those huge blue eyes peeking at him from inside the tiny cage that she'd crawled into and knew that this was where they kept her and had made his final decision. "Those sadists physically, emotionally, and sexually abused that little girl for two years, Dean and my reaction was pure gut instinct. I used my last round on the woman, took the baby out of that hellhole and burned it and everything in it to the damn ground."

Rage at the mere images the description gave him filled Dean as he replayed every word in his head until it finally clicked and he felt his heart jump while his stomach seemed to want to flip in some nasty way as he began to understand what was being said. "Morgan," he whispered, green eyes snapping up to lock on Jim's and seeing the answer even before seeing the slow, silent nod. "Morgan was the little girl, wasn't she? That's how you met her. You…saved her."

"I took her out of there and because the locals were tight knit, the foster system so crowded and Morgan was already so different because she was British it was simple to just bring her back to Montana to a local Catholic Charity that was run by some nuns who I knew," the older hunter told him, looking closely to see Dean's eyes as if watching for a reaction but only saw building anger and he only prayed it was at the story and not something else. "It was six months before she'd let anyone close to her, Dean and then I think she always expected to be hurt or abused in some way. Do you remember the one thing I told you about her?"

"Besides not to piss her off?" Dean missed the smirk the former Pastor and hunter shot him as he slowly nodded. "It was the night we were at your place…the first time Dad met Morgan," he was still picturing the image that was described and suddenly understanding the one warning Jim had ever issued to him. "Bobby had taken Dad out to do some night fishing…and to get him out of the house I think, Sam had gotten possessive and would only let her put him to bed and you asked me to come outside. I was waiting for the lecture about being friends with a girl who not only kicked my ass but also zapped a zombie but…" he paused and felt like kicking himself now because so much made sense. "You told me that Morg wasn't like the normal girls I went to school with or messed around with and that I needed to be careful with her."

Nodding, Jim had known that warning had upset the then teenager but it had been his only way to try to give some protection since he knew she wasn't going to reveal the truth to him then. "I knew the first night I saw her with you in that motel room, the way she looked at you, that she'd already fallen hard and I just wanted to warn you that Morgan wasn't like the girls you were used to…that she wouldn't understand every…" reaching out to lay a careful hand on a strong shoulder, he was surprised to feel it shaking. "After that night, the next time I talked with her I offered the same warning because she'd never allowed herself to be near a boy without one of her friends close to her. Kelly, Devan were the ones she trusted but then she met you and Sam and she told me that you were the only boy she'd trust. That you didn't scare her and I knew I was sunk."

"Because of Dad ever finding out about her powers." Dean guessed, frowning. "Why wouldn't she tell me, Jim?" he asked, not getting that part. "I knew she had powers so why wouldn't she tell me…does she remember it?"

"Morgan never forgets anything…unless forced, Dean, so yes. She remembers her childhood. She fully remembers what was done to her in that house," Jim sighed, feeling something odd in the air but focusing on the way the young hunter was tensing. "Morgan told me, when I asked her why she wasn't telling you how we met, that you knew about her abilities so that made her a big enough freak. She was afraid that if you knew what had been done to her as a child that you wouldn't want to be her friend anymore…and you wouldn't let Sam be her friend. I think in some way she was protecting you but also herself because she's still always expecting to be hurt…and I guess John proved her right."

His thoughts racing with horrific images of what his friend had endured as a small child, Dean knew the anger he'd felt when Sam had been hurt as a child by an aide at some school they'd been attending. His little brother had been older though so to think of Morgan, who always seemed to fragile at times, being hurt like that or worse made him sick and furious.

Then the Pastor's last words sank in and his eyes shot up. "Come again?" he knew his Dad had hurt her at Bobby's but Jim's words and something in the back of his mind that Zachariah had been gloating made him think that this was something else. "What…what does that mean?" he wanted to know and knew the instant the older man's face changed that something else was going on. "Jim? I know Dad hurt her at Bobby's and that's why she ran from me and I stopped him in Boston but…is there something else that I don't know?"

Accepting that he had some right to have told Dean what he had, the spirit of Jim Murphy also knew his limits and knew this was one thing that, despite what his gut told him to do, he couldn't tell him. "That's something that Morgan will have to tell you, Dean," he sighed, laying a hand on a tense shoulder. "Morgan's brave and she puts on a strong front but you've always been able to see past that act. Her childhood still impacts her and I honestly wondered if she'd ever allow anyone to get close to her. A couple complaints from Bobby that summer kind of told me that she'd allowed you that close."

"Umm, yeah," Dean coughed, uneasy and silently cursing Bobby Singer even though he knew Bobby was a bigger threat that summer than Jim. Accepting that he wasn't going to get any answers about what else Jim knew about his Dad and Morgan, he sighed but as he gazed around the image of the junkyard he seemed to smile. "I'm still not sure if you're real or something my mind's making up but you asked me why I chose Bobby's place over a bar or something more…fitting?" he slid a look over to his friend and smiled more. "She's actually the reason I chose this place, this image…this car."

Determined that if this was real then he'd better start paying more attention and figure out what the hell was happening, Dean got off the hood to walk around to the side of the old Mustang to stare at it as if he was remembering the past. "How much did Bobby tell you?" he asked while kneeling to run his hand over the seat.

Running a hand over his slight graying beard, Jim hid his smile because he heard the uneasiness in the young man's voice and wondered if he told Dean the rest that he could just how much more concerned he'd be but at that moment he just shrugged. "Mainly he just bitched about having two hormonal teenagers loose on his property and Sam wasn't doing a good job at breaking things up."

"Huh, Sammy was extraordinarily good at popping up when he shouldn't have," Dean muttered, remembering how annoying his little brother had been at times toward the end of that summer and how much he missed that now. "There are two places where I would go in my mind if I wanted peace or to escape. Your place…and here because at your place, on the dock, is where I began to realize how different it was when I was with Morgan and Bobby's…here is where I lost it all."

"So you came here because it reminded you of that?" the logic didn't make sense to the Pastor when he noticed the smile had turned wry, almost nostalgic for a moment. "Dean?"

"I lost her at Bobby's, Jim…but back here, with this damn stupid car is where I accepted that I'd fallen in love," the elder Winchester murmured, moving his hand up as if to grasp the amulet he normally wore but let his hand drop when it touched nothing. "It was back here one day that I realized that no matter what else she was, or what my Dad said, that I'd always love Morgan and I'd protect her like I did Sam," Dean paused for a second before feeling the image seemed to swirl and almost near what was happening. "Jim…you're not packing, right?"

Jim had felt the change as well and understood the image was going to show something that while clearly Dean suspected what it was he was concerned how the older man would take it. "No, but that doesn't mean I won't slap you again if I don't like this."

"Awesome," Dean muttered but then his eyes were pulled to what the added image was showing and smiled, forgetting the pain, the fear, and everything else that he'd been trying to avoid as he let himself focus on…

**Flashback, Singer Salvage 1994:**

"Is this piece of junk gonna run in this century, slick?"

Deciding not to reply like he was tempted since that would only get him slapped, sixteen year old Dean Winchester lifted his head out from under the hood of the Mustang that he'd been working on since arriving at Bobby's a few days earlier. "It's a classic Mustang, not junk," he corrected while struggling not to smile at the smirk her got in return. "Though right now, it's a pain in the ass."

The change in climate, coming from the cooler mountains of Nevada to the hotter weather of South Dakota, was still taking some getting used to so Dean normally started work on the car early in the morning so he could beat the heat…and lectures from Bobby.

Sam was still quiet after the events at the truck stop before they'd arrived here and Morgan, Dean knew, was using way too much energy to help Sam sleep without nightmares.

Thanks to Bobby Singer's house rules Dean wasn't able to be as close to his friend at night t make certain she slept correctly so when she did sleep he let her. To hear the soft accent this early in the morning was a surprise to him…until he happened to glance up again and caught the sunglasses she was wearing.

"Sammy still asleep or devouring the kitchen?" he asked, reaching for a rag to wipe his hands on before straightening fully.

"Sleeping and Bobby's destroying the kitchen," came the reply as she ran a hand over the roof of the car while gazing out at the many cars in the yard. "Want me to tell you what he said as I was leaving the house?"

Dean had a hunch he knew what the grizzled old hunter had probably said since he'd been hearing rules and warnings since they'd arrived and Bobby had picked up the vibes between them. "No, you want to tell me what the nightmare was about?" he countered, catching the way her hand jerked and smiled thinly because he knew he'd nailed it on the first guess.

"I…I didn't have…" Morgan started to say but wasn't quick enough to avoid the arm that suddenly shot out to catch her waist. "Dean!" she squealed in surprise but tensed this time when he backed her up against the car and reached for the glasses.

"You woke up last night and Sammy didn't, Angel," he replied, feeling his friend tense which he found odd since she'd never done that with him before but was more concerned when he noticed the depth of the shadows haunting her tired eyes after he'd removed the sunglasses.

He'd seen her eyes like this one time only and that was shortly after he'd woken up in the cabin after being hurt so badly and she'd been dealing with too much stress. Dean knew that despite what the girl said that the fourteen year old was still trying to take too much on and that included protecting Sam.

"You were sleeping in the den this morning so what happened?" he asked quietly, curling a piece of long strawberry blond hair around his finger. "Bad dream or…what?"

Normally Morgan was open with him and he rarely had to push for answers to anything but this time Dean felt her resistance to answering and he also felt the link they shared was dim to what she was keeping to herself until he finally felt her ease against him and for one brief moment he thought he heard a soft cry but when he looked down her eyes were dry.

"Just…worried about Sammy," she whispered, still seeing the truck stop and the fear in the smaller boy's eyes after two truckers had nearly kidnapped him. "He's still scared, Dean. He doesn't want Bobby to know it happened and he…"

"That's why he has us, babe," Dean smiled, deciding to break early since it was just the two of them for the moment and wanting to make his friend smile again. "You, me, and that old mutt Bobby has…though if Sammy sneaks up on us one more time I'm dropping him in a hole."

Laughing at the picture that presented, Morgan relaxed a little even though she knew her friend was prone to giving up this easily so keeping that in mind she wasn't surprised when she felt him move just enough to know what he was up to. "Isn't this breaking one of the big rules, mate?" she asked with a grin. "Y'know, the one that says, 'no kissing, no cuddling, no anything'?"

"I've been doubletalking my way around Bobby since I was eight so I can handle him," Dean smiled, making sure to give her plenty of time to understand what he was up to which was something he'd only done with Morgan. "You're still sleepy so I'll make you a deal. You curl up with me until baby brother shows up in whatever commando style sneak attack he's planned for today and tonight after Bobby goes to bed we'll get Sammy and camp in the den. Okay?"

Considering it for a brief moment, Morgan slowly nodded then cocked her head to shoot him a wary look. "You're up to no good, aren't you?" she asked then laughed when he scooped her up to twirl around in the way he knew would make her laugh.

"Morg, I'm hurt that you'd think that I would pull some underhanded, sneaky thing on you…considering I know you probably have that blade on you somewhere," Dean grinned but took the opening to return the light kiss she gave him and then moved slower when he took the chance to get her to sleep.

Ever since he'd been working on the Mustang, Morgan would come out to watch him sometime during the day. It was on the second day that he'd noticed that she'd curled up inside to watch him or toss comments his way.

Knowing that she was comfortable inside the old car, even if it was missing a door, Dean took the time to ease his friend down on the seat while continuing to distract her with little jokes about Bobby's cooking or Sam's bad habit of popping up out of no where.

Remembering something Pastor Jim had told him months ago about Morgan not being like the other girls he was used to in the schools he and Sam attended, Dean automatically caught himself going slower, or being more gentle or not flirting like he would with most girls.

As he lightly ran a hand back through her hair, he used to think that it was because she was two years younger than him or because she was a friend of Jim but now as he felt her relax against him in the Mustang, Dean suddenly understood that while it was those things…it was also something else and that actually scared him.

Ghosts, witches, anything he'd seen hunting hadn't scared him like this because growing up with John Winchester hadn't allowed Dean the chance to figure out how to express honest emotion to someone other than his little brother and even that was toned down. Discovering that he might actually be developing something deeper for this pretty girl that was willing to do anything for him and Sam scared him.

"Dean…" it was the soft voice that brought his full attention back to Morgan who he'd thought was nearly asleep but as he glanced down his inner alarms shot straight to concern when he saw the fear in her eyes and felt her hand press against his chest when he suddenly cursed himself for not remembering that he'd taken off his black t-shirt before he began working.

"Damn," he swore, easing back to give her space and expected her to bolt out of the car but wasn't expecting her to sit up but grab onto to him as if needing to have him close. "Easy, Morg. I'm right here," he told her, glad the inside of the car had enough room to stretch his legs out as she eased back closer but noticed the way she was rigid. "What's wrong?"

Morgan bit her lip, shaking her head and wishing this would all go away. The nightmares were things she'd been dealing with since she'd been a small child but normally when they'd come on like this she'd be alone or with her own people.

She hadn't planned on them happening while she was with the boys because she'd already made the choice never to tell Dean about her past. That was one humiliation that she'd never endure but the stress of the summer, of knowing what could happen when her friends went back to their Father was making it harder this time to bury the fears and memories.

Whispering that she was fine, Morgan just wanted to sleep while Dean was with her since being with him normally kept the fears away and she prayed it would be like that this time as she slowly drifted off while he talked about anything from Sam to his friend Caleb and slowly the cold chills and horrified images of fire and monsters faded.

Dean stayed still when he felt his friend relax into his arms again, letting his own eyes close to rest and silently plan on what he'd say to his father when the vacation came to an end and he was forced to say goodbye to a girl he'd come to accept that he was falling for and protect Sam from their Father who he knew would still be pissed.

Moving his arm carefully so he didn't wake his friend, Dean glanced at his watch to see that it had been forty-five minutes that she'd been sleeping peacefully and he was just deciding if he should wake up to tell her that he was going to be outside the car when he felt the first hard jerk and heard the whimper.

"Morg?" a frown forming, Dean gently went to touch Morgan's face when he noticed how pale she was and he felt the tears and that immediately made him nearly panic because he couldn't handle tears. Those were his one big weakness and seeing them on his sleeping friend was already making his stomach clench. "Angel, wake up."

Beginning to twist, Morgan's hands both fisted but instead of lashing out as Dean feared she would, he was surprised when she all but curled into a ball. "No…don't…I'm sorry…I…" whimpering in her sleep, she didn't hear the concern in the strong voice next to her and despite the urge to crawl away from the groping hands and hot breath that her memories were showing she struggled to cling to the lean form that her subconscious knew wouldn't hurt her. "Please don't hurt…didn't mean to…to be bad."

"Morgan!" now Dean's concern hit panic when the link began flashing with things he didn't understand since all it showed him was fire, animal hides and hideous looking monsters that spit blood and that frightened her. "C'mon, it's Dean. Wake up for me."

Seeing that she wasn't pulling away from him, Dean slowly and much more carefully tightened his arms around her and just started soothing her like he would Sam when his brother would have a nightmare. Pulling her up closer in his arms, he finally was able to make her uncurl if only a little so he could tuck her head under his chin to rock gently while he whispered anything that came to mind into her hair until slowly Morgan began calming down.

"Sshh, it's okay," he promised, closing his own eyes as they burned against tears that he wasn't certain if they were his own or if he was reacting to her emotions as she turned into his chest to cry. "It was just a bad dream. I'd worry if you didn't have them once and awhile because like it or not, babe, you're only human."

"I'm…sorry, Dean…I don't…I don't want you to have to…" moving a little as if to pull away, Morgan tensed only briefly when his arms tightened enough to tell her to stay still. "Sammy…"

Guessing that would be her first concern, Dean decided not to tell her that his nosy little brother had already made an appearance and he'd sent him back to the house for the next couple hours or until he heard from him. "Sammy's probably still sleeping or tormenting Bobby," he shrugged easily, reaching for the leather jacket that he'd had Sam go bring him because he'd felt his friend shivering despite the building heat of the day. "We're fine. You're fine. I'm not going anywhere and no one's hurting you."

Stilling for a moment, Morgan heard the firm tone and the easy confidence in the teenager's voice but knew deep down that in the end it was a promise that Dean couldn't keep because too many things from her past could hurt him if she allowed it. Not to mention his own father. "Don't let go, Dean?" she asked, hating that she couldn't bury these at that moment and that her friend saw that she wasn't always in control.

"No, I'm not letting go, Morg," Dean assured her, carding his fingers through her long soft hair to offer comfort which was all he could do at that moment until he felt her slowly relaxing back into a form of sleep. "I'm not ever leaving you or Sammy," he promised softly, being more cautious when he lightly kissed her forehead as if sensing he needed to watch how he handled her and swearing to ask Jim Murphy what might have happened in the young girl's past that could've triggered this type of reaction when he's never seen her like this.

Laying the jacket over her, he knew when she snuggled into it and him that Morgan was frightened and hiding it from him and herself so as he settled in for a day of soothing and keeping Bobby from learning what had happened, Dean just laid his head back but couldn't quite get it out of his head the frightened whimpers of his friend and how close they mirrored those of his little brother on nights when Sam's memories haunted him.

"I'll never hurt you or let you be hurt," he whispered to his sleeping friend before hearing Sam making noise to let him know he was coming back and he cleared the darker emotions from his face so his little brother didn't see both his idols breaking in front of him. "Sammy…"

**Present time in Dean's mind:**

Staring at the fading image but still remaining in the junkyard where his mind had found peace, Dean Winchester didn't turn to face Jim Murphy right away. Nor did he shrug off the supporting hand that was placed on his shoulder. "I guess I really screwed up in keeping that promise," he muttered, still able to feel the tears as they dropped on his hand. "Didn't I, Jim?"

Having seen the same scene that Dean remembered, Jim didn't answer right away since he was busy trying to cover his own emotions. He had always wondered just how often those moments had happened to his young friend but whenever he'd asked all Morgan would say was that she was fine.

"What do you remember, Dean?" he asked grimly, guessing the young man had full memories of his recent days but was struggling to avoid them to keep from thinking about what had happened to him and what he'd been made to do.

Reaching down into the car, he put on the battered leather jacket almost as if seeking comfort from it. "I remember…" he took three steps away from the Mustang then suddenly whirled to slam his fist into the side of a rusted out Chevy in pent up rage. "I remember it all," he told his mentor bitterly, still pounding on the car as he tried to get the memories out of his mind. "I remember talking to Sam and Morgan on the phone, feeling pure panic that she was hurt and sounding as scared as she had this day and that they were stuck in a witches house with a guy I knew wouldn't hesitate to kill my brother if he could. Then I felt the pain and it all went downhill from there.

"I can feel every goddamn thing those bastards did to me. The beatings, the knives, crap that made what Alastair did in Hell seem like a cakewalk. Then I remember the drugs and all I knew was that I had to protect Morgan and Sam so I forced her out of my mind, shut the link down as much as I could and prayed it worked…but it didn't because Zachariah, the bastard, got into my head and…_sonuvabitch_!" Dean snarled, drawing his fist back when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"They used me to get to them, Jim!" he yelled, seeing things that made him sick but it was the memories of that room in San Antonio that was the worst because he could see, hear, and feel every thing he did to his friend. He saw what the Angels did to her but more importantly he understood the depth of this betrayal. "I promised that I'd never hurt her, that I'd never hurt my brother again and I did! Did I do all those things to Morgan?" he demanded, almost hoping for a negative answer but knew in his heart that he wouldn't hear that.

"Dean, I know you're feeling guilty but that's exactly why they did it," Jim told him seriously, feeling time was running out and knowing he needed the young hunter to get back on track. "I need you to listen to me and for once in your life, think your next action through."

Pausing as a cold chill shot around them, the former Pastor turned hunter grabbed Dean by the shoulders but saw the way he winced. "Your wounds are showing because Jack can't heal them for the same reason he can't heal Morgan's. Guilt. You're hurt severally but you can survive this if you fight for it and…"

"I tortured my…" the word stopped a second before he spoke it and Dean turned as Jim's eyebrow lifted curiously. "I tortured and hurt my friend. I stuck a knife in my brother's shoulder and let goddamn Angels touch him again. I don't want to live knowing that…you think Morgan will let me near her?"

"Dean, yes. You did some bad things while under the control of those drugs but none of it was you and deep down you know that and so does your brother and Morgan," Jim replied firmly, hating the infamous Winchester stubbornness a lot right then. "It won't be easy to get over it but it can be done but right now both Sam and Morgan are in danger in here. That Angel wants her dead before she can stop this and if she gives up or dies in your mind then…"

"Astral lesson 101…if a body is hurt or dies while on an astral plane then that person's physical self will suffer the same," Dean rolled his eyes then stopped as it finally dawned on him what was being said. "Wait, Sammy and Morg…they're in here? In this place?" knowing the injuries that he'd seen, he knew damn well that neither his brother nor his friend should be doing this. "Where?"

Jim shrugged helplessly. "I can't tell but you can find them. You're mind's the center and it's what Sam's looking for but they're both hurt here too and someone's using their memories and your darker ones to strike out," he paused. "Dean, I can't tell you how this will play out because I only came to talk to you about that one thing which I hope will also help you to understand things now.

"Sam's your brother and he will love you always but he still has the doubts implanted in his head by that demon and all the doubts he's had recently to…finding out about what happened to you in Hell," he caught the moment Dean went rigid and knew the boy understood what he was saying but went on. "You need to stop burying the emotion and feelings, Dean. You used to be able to open yourself to Sam. He needs that right now. He needs his big brother and so does Morgan, now more than ever."

Still reeling over the fact that his little brother might have learned too much of what happened in Hell, Dean couldn't stop the snort that came at that last comment. Not believing the man could actually think that. "Jim, what part of what I did to Morgan didn't you get?" he demanded, running his hands through his short hair as if he was trying to pull it out. "I scrawled a damn sigal into her back. I burned her, cut her and…" his voice broke as a fleeting image came of feeling skin tear as he cut her repeatedly. "Even if she let me get within fifty feet of her, in here if she's seeing images she'll never believe it's me."

"I can give you something that will convince her that you're really yourself and not some demon or Angel image, Dean," Jim Murphy knew he'd probably get his butt resurrected just long enough for the girl to kill him for this move but not seeing any choice when he agreed that she might not trust Dean at the moment if she was too badly injured again. "Sam shouldn't be that hard to convince but I have one thing that only I know and that only I could tell you. Tell her that I told you it and it should give you at least a chance to get close to her."

Not fully understanding, Dean frowned then shot a look out at something beyond the junkyard and felt his heart go cold as it had only a few times before and the last time it felt like this was in Cold Oak…the night Sam died. "What? Morgan's more suspicious than I am…and that was not my fault."

Laughing, Jim shook his head. "I know, she was always a stubborn little girl. That was another reason I figured she hit it off with you," he smiled as he recalled the happier times these kids had had before feeling his time was running out. "I can tell you her full name."

"Jim? I've known Morg's full name for awhile now," Dean commented, running his tongue over his teeth. "I was just usually wise enough not to use it or…"

"Harrison's her birth name, Dean and it's the one she still uses but it's not her legal name," Jim interrupted, seeing the boy's confusion and saying a silent apology. "Her legal name isn't known by very many people still alive which is why if I tell it to you then she should accept you're real."

Not sure if he liked what this could mean, Dean watched his friend closely as he leaned in to whisper something in his ear before squeezing his arm.

"Take care of yourself and them, Dean," Jim smiled, stepping back to slowly vanish. "I trusted you once with her and I still do. Trust yourself, trust Sam and…"

Stunned at what he'd just heard, the realization of what that whispered admission meant not only to him and Sam but also to his friend, Dean felt numb then he scrubbed a hand over his face with a muttered curse. "God, and I worried about Bobby killing me that summer? Jim stood a better chance even after that one time at his place and…"

A howl was heard and his inner alarms prickled because he knew the sound of a hellhound anywhere but then he heard something else, something that would always make him react. "Sam…" he whispered, hearing his little brother scream in pain and recognizing the fear.

Pain, fear, Sammy were three things that pissed Dean off more than anything and despite his own thoughts, his own doubts, the guilt and pain he had, he knew deep in his heart that somewhere in this place were two of the last people in this world that he cared for and he didn't care what he had to do or who he had to gut but he'd save them before anything else.

"Morg," he forced the sick memories down, knowing those were going to be used to hurt them both because his guilt would make him wary of hurting her again and her fear of him would keep her from letting him help her.

Feeling a familiar weight in his hand, he looked down to see his Colt and swallowed when a small yip made him look down and nearly laughed at what he saw. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me?" he stared at the tiny looking little thing that still resembled a damn Yorkie if Dean didn't know the thing with the pink bow and red eyes was actually a Hellhound or what Morgan liked to call a Hell-Yorkie. "What're you doing here?"

The dog's black tongue stuck out before it began running in circles, grabbed the leg of his jeans to tug as if wanting him to follow it and something deeper told Dean to do just that.

"I'm following a damn Hell-Yorkie to who knows where," he rolled his eyes but once again the scream seemed to chill his blood and he swore that whoever touched his brother would eat their own lungs. "Hang on, Sammy," he whispered, chambering a round and taking a step out of the junkyard and felt so many varying emotions like rage, pain, fear, and guilt along with memories that hit him.

Memories that he knew weren't all his own and that made him angrier because while he didn't give a damn if someone screwed with him he did care if they screwed with his family. "Nah, get off your ass, Winchester," he told himself, ignoring everything else but the feel of his brother and not surprised when he felt the pull but wasn't certain he liked that he couldn't feel Morgan. "Time to go kick someone's ass and find what's yours and get them home…then hope you still have a brain to handle the rest."

Taking a deep breath, Dean took a final look back at the Mustang and swore that if he could that he and Morgan would get back to that car, then he made the final step out of the image and was nearly overwhelmed by…

**Elsewhere in Dean's mind, Sam:**

Agony raging as his one arm hung limply after being broke, Sam Winchester saw through hazy eyes the pistol raise toward him to shoot but couldn't find the strength to move as a sense of utter desolation filled him as it had once before.

Beginning to fire the weapon, the large red-headed man who was John Winchester's friend and the man who had held his then seventeen year old son captive to 'teach' him lessons laughed until a hand suddenly laid caught his gun hand, pushed it down to allow another hand to come up hard against the man's neck.

"No, this bloody well won't happen to him again."

The soft accented voice was known to Sam but even as he forced his eyes to clear and watched the big man go down hard as a swift kick to the groin made him scream, his attention was drawn to the woman who stood between them.

He knew in his heart who this was and though not sure why he would see her in this place, he got a strange sense of security…like he would when with his own brother and friend but he caught the differences as well even before he saw her handle his tormentor.

Russ Young had been a huge man in life, over six foot tall, muscular at 313 pounds and used to having the upper hand. Now he was easily dropped to the ground by a young woman half his size and weight and as he went down, he screamed in pain then shock as he was slammed well away from Sam with a simple wave of a finger.

"Once before I told some bastard that he'd never touch Sam again and it was one of only two things I ever kept from his brother. You won't hurt him again," she warned, accent vanishing as darker emotions took over and the spirit form of the man seemed to vanish with a mere look. Then she seemed to tremble. "Hello, Sam."

Able to sit up with some strain, Sam gently held his injured arm to keep it from moving while silently wondering how Bobby was reacting to this back in the Panic Room but then he turned full attention to his rescuer as she slowly turned toward him.

He had seen the picture the other 'Dean' had so he knew how much like his own friend this woman would seem but it was still a shock. She was older than what his friend was now but he also noticed other subtle differences.

Her hair was a deeper shade of auburn and shorter and he knew he was seeing her as she must have looked right before the end. The most jarring difference for Sam was her eyes. While they were still as blue, her eyes held shadows that were much deeper, much more dark than what he normally saw in his own friend. Then there was her abilities.

"The differences are huge between your friend and me, luv," those same eyes seemed to gentle as she smiled at Sam while kneeling down beside him but made no move to touch him yet. "I've seen them as I came here and I also saw them in his mind."

"You're…his wife," Sam's eyes were drawn to the thin gold band with a small stone that she wore even though her knew that ring was actually with the other version of his brother. "Man, that's weird…sorry, it's just…"

'Morgan Harrison Winchester' smiled with understanding, gazing at the image that no longer showed the small, filthy room but a road, which she knew was something that the boy had pushed for. "Your brother's different too."

"Dean…he'll flirt with anything but…he is different since he and Morg seem to be talking again," Sam admitted, feeling nauseas as his arm throbbed until a gentle hand ran over it and slowly he felt the pain going away. "He still won't come right out and say the words but I hope he does. It's weird thinking of my brother settled down or married but when I was younger I'd wish…hope, pray that he stayed with Morgan so that maybe…"

"You wanted a family and you hoped if your Dean stayed with her that you'd have that," 'Morgan' caught that emotion easily enough but she also knew that was how her 'Sam' also felt long before she and Dean ever wed. "It could still happen…if he's not as pigheaded as my husband."

Sam finally smiled since he knew that if his brother and that other 'Dean' shared anything it was their stubborn streaks then he frowned. "Morg…I have to find her or Dean…this whole place feels…wrong now and…"

"There are others playing with things here, Sam," she told him grimly, also picking up the darker vibes. "My abilities are limited since I was only asked to help you this one time but if you can find your brother then you can find your Morgan and get out of here. Leave the rest to those outside and my husband."

Carefully moving his arm to see if it hurt anymore, Sam realized that it had been healed but after all he'd been through was still wary. "He wants me dead," he muttered sourly. "I promised that if he helped me save my brother that he could…kill me after I made sure Dean and Morgan were safe but…I'm scared."

"You…he…" 'Morgan' decided to keep her next few words and opinion to herself but promised to slap her husband the next time she could. "Sam, 'Dean' was promised something when he was brought back and he was so deeply hoping that he could have what was promised that he didn't understand the choices or the outcome," she sighed, knowing the lies her husband had been told and also the lies that had filled him even before he died originally.

Knowing that he needed to move, that he had to locate his brother and quickly if he wanted to help his friend or if any of them were going to survive this, Sam still hesitated as if sensing something dark was close but also because he wanted to ask the one question that had been bothering him since he'd first met the 'Dean Winchester' from 2014. "Was…was he always like this?" he asked quietly. "So driven…so cold?"

Suspecting the reason the younger man was curious about that, 'Morgan' closed her eyes briefly. 'Poor scared little boy,' she thought to herself, able to feel this young man's inner doubts and fears so she understood his curiosity given his recent issues with his own brother.

She wished to could explain to Sam everything that made her 'Dean' the way he was now, what had made him the man that this boy knew because while he saw a cold, hard, unfeeling man who was willing to do anything to accomplish what he had to…she remembered the other man, the man she'd loved most of her life.

"Sam, my boys had a life that wasn't like yours in many ways," she began slowly, standing to walk a little bit away to touch a pretty lilac colored flower that bloomed by the side of the road. "I'm not sure what 'Dean' might've told you but…while a lot of it was the same, John was a lot meaner…crueler to them and 'Dean' took a hell of a lot more beatings and abuse to shield his brother.

"Your Dad was more subtle in his abuse while theirs didn't bother to hide it. The first night I met them, 'Sammy' had a welt on his arm that was infected because John wouldn't let Dean treat it," 'Morgan' hesitated a moment, thinking back. "John knew what I was from the start and I ran for pretty much the same reason yours did…but I also ran because I was afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to 'Dean' and 'Sam' if I'd stayed but it didn't get much better because John told everyone what I was."

Sam felt cold, knowing that meant the risks must have increased for the young woman but also recognized certain actions from her that told him this would be bad. "When did you get married?" he asked.

"I was eighteen and despite being terrified it was one the greatest days in our lives," 'Morgan' remembered that 'Dean' had also been frightened that day but hid it well. "Sam, 'Dean' loved me and I loved him but we got married that young because he was trying to protect me. His Dad had pretty much put a contract out on my life and when I was seventeen, just a month after we got back together, I was…held captive for a week by hunters and…that was the start of him getting harder because it scared him so much that men he knew would do what was done to me that even after I came out of it, he'd stay awake at night as if he was afraid it would happen again.

"He'd been raised so hard that showing emotion was hard for him, even with me and 'Sam' but 'Dean' could be loving, he could be gentle and he showed that a year and half after we were married when I finally felt safe enough to make love with him," she turned to see wide hazel eyes watching her and read the surprise in them. " 'Dean' never pressured me. He would always just hold me and say he was cool with it… though I also think he knew Jim and Bobby would probably shoot him because in a lot ways Jim, while he loved the boys, he was scared for us."

Still finding it weird to think of any version of his brother and friend like that, Sam smirked then thought of something. "How'd you and Jim meet?"

"Uh-huh, luv," 'Morgan' chuckled, amused at that trick. "That's not up to me to say since not everything between me and her are the same just like you and Dean aren't fully similar to mine, but the darker things would still be things that she wouldn't want you to know.

"You want to know if 'Dean' was always so hard and he wasn't. He and 'Sam' had issues when they began hunting again. John had died but before he did he'd managed to spread the word about 'Sam' and me so that increased the tension and there was so much I could do to keep the peace between them. 'Dean' loved his brother but when he made that bloody deal and went to Hell is when he changed and that's when things started going bad."

Recalling some things that the other 'Dean' had been saying, Sam thought he understood a little more but he also recognized the pain in this woman's eyes. "You loved them," he knew that even as she smiled and it seemed like years left her face with that one smile.

"I'd loved 'Dean' since I was a kid and Jim introduced us and 'Sammy' was as much my little brother as he was 'Dean's'. Other than Jim, they were my only family," she nodded, leaning against a tree and feeling a warmth whisper around her. "It wasn't easy. Our time wasn't like this one in a lot of ways. The boys were fighting because 'Dean' didn't want 'Sam' hurt and on the other hand 'Sam' wanted to be treated like an equal so they were battling wills and it hurt to see them hurting but after 'Dean' came back and I spent so much time helping him that I didn't see what it was doing to 'Sam' so he lost himself for a time and then after the last attack by Zachariah…'Sam' lasted for as long as he could but there was no denying that 'Dean' blamed him for things and when he realized how badly their fighting was affecting me, he just took off one night and 'Dean' let him go."

"But here I came back…sure I'm still not sure Dean really wanted it but…" Sam stopped and it clicked. "That's why it happened. They wanted them apart and where it didn't work with us…"

'Morgan' met his eyes sadly. "My husband was a loving man and I know he never stopped loving 'Sam' but his emotions were just so screwed up that it was easy to make him see the worst and only because I loved him did I stay with him when he refused 'Sam's' panicked call to come back.

" 'Dean' and I fought but nothing like we did then but to him it was safer if they were apart so all I could do was help 'Sammy' from a distance because he'd still talk to me and I knew when it was falling apart," recalling those days was hard because 'Morgan' also remembered things that her husband didn't know. "Zachariah never stopped trying to get to 'Dean', Sam. He was always doing something but then…I got pregnant and it was the first time in years that I'd seen the man that I'd fallen in love with because when I told him it was like there was that chance that we could still be happy, that once we beat it all we'd have the family he and 'Sam' wanted.

"The world was going to Hell, the Apocalypse was looming, the Angels were always a threat and I was always afraid that 'Dean' would get pissed and do something stupid because when I was about four months along Zach's enforcers attacked while 'Dean' was away but my powers protected us," she bit her lip and twisted the wedding ring much like he had seen the other man so with his while thinking back on that time. "I wanted 'Sam' back and I pushed, I bitched, and I threatened to go myself to get him because I knew that he was losing hope, that he'd been hurt and was scared so finally right before our son was born, 'Dean' went to Detroit to find him…but it was too late."

Swallowing hard, Sam shivered as what she was saying sank in. "He gave in," he assumed but frowned at her odd look. "Wait, what happened?"

" 'Dean' believed that 'Sammy' just gave in but he said yes to protect his family. He gave in to Lucifer because that damn bloody cold blooded bastard threatened the baby, he threatened us and 'Sam' gave in finally," she explained, still seeing those last months vividly. " 'Dean' was done. To him, 'Sammy' was gone but I knew differently. I knew that I could save him and I had. It would've taken him just one push to be free…but I was hurt, tired and weak because the birth hadn't been easy for me and Zachariah's attack took me by surprise."

Memories were never easy for her but to recall her last moments were not things she wanted to go through twice but she wanted this boy to understand what had happened to cause 'Dean' to become so jaded. "My husband believed that his brother, the little boy we both loved and raised, had killed me but he tried to protect me that night. I can remember being so cold but hearing him crying, then 'Dean' turned on him and my last words to my husband was to…make it right but he misunderstood," 'Morgan' wiped tears away that even in front of this Sam she hated for him to see her cry. "He blamed 'Sam' for it all and that night the sweet, loving man that I married, that I loved died because so much of 'Dean' was based on his need to protect. To protect me and 'Sam' and when he believed his brother had betrayed him that last time it was over and the man you see now was created."

Listening to her, hearing the pain in her soft voice, Sam understood more of what pushed the older, harder version of 'Dean' to do the things he had and to make the deal he had this time. "He still loves you," he was sure of this because he'd seen the man's eyes change at times when he thought no one was looking and he'd seen him with Morgan. "Oh my God," he whispered, finally getting it. "Zachariah promised to change it…to give him back what he loved but…"

"…but 'Dean' doesn't understand that it won't happen, that Zachariah lied just to get him to hurt you…to hurt the…me in this time," she shook her head sadly but something beyond Sam drew her eyes. "He means well but a part of him still wants what he lost. I have to believe though that he couldn't hurt you."

"I don't care if he does…after I make sure my brother and Morgan are safe," Sam replied, surprised at the eyeroll she gave him because it reminded him of the one he'd often use himself. "I don't want to hurt them and I know Dean won't want me around if he finds out that I know about Hell. I just want them to be safe and happy."

Morgan could see so much of her own 'Sam' in this boy that it hurt to see him in the same pain that she'd once confronted her brother-in-law over. "Your brother loves you, Sam. He will always do that and seek to protect you so yeah, he'll be a bit bitchy over you knowing that, just talk to him and don't let him shut you out…don't shut each other out," she urged, reaching up to place a gentle hand on his face and wished she could do more for them. "Fight for what you love, don't give in to the images that will scare you and don't give in to the doubts these images will make you have because Sam…if he'd been closer to you that time, Dean wouldn't have let that bloody animal hurt you," she whispered, again seeing something and smiled. "I need to go now and you need to find your brother. Call for him, Sam and you will know how to do the right thing when it comes."

Blinking at that last curious comment, Sam could only nod as he gasped at the hug he felt because it brought back all the buried emotions he hadn't been allowing himself to feel since this nightmare had begun. "Will…what happens to you?" he questioned, suddenly concerned for her. "I mean…will you find peace or…"

"Sammy, I'll never have peace until I can be with my family but…I'll be alright," she seemed touched by his concern but didn't want him to be afraid for her so she lightly shifted him so that he could see what she did. "Dean's injuries here have altered the timeline that I'm from so that will make it harder to find that peace because some things will disappear forever but…for now I have to look after him because I always looked after my 'Sammy'," she told him, reaching out for a hand that had been held out. "Go find your family, Sam…and if you see my husband, tell him…tell him to remember what I said and that I love him."

Nodding, Sam could only watch as this young woman stepped back into a shimmering light and soon disappeared but he couldn't ignore the quiet voice that spoke to him. "You're not alone, Sam."

"Not yet maybe," Sam sighed, shivering when he found himself alone but hearing voices from beyond the treeline and a more familiar barking and howling coming closer from the rear. Deciding he wasn't ready to face those damn mutts from Hell, he headed for the voices.

Picking up speed, the younger Winchester hurried when he began to get a darker feeling and a sense of dread coming from up ahead and clearing the trees, Sam skidded to a stop when it seemed like he fell a long way into a dark pit and only coming up when he landed hard on solid ground that was cold.

"Where…?" he looked around to see that he was in a cold cemetery somewhere that was familiar but strange.

It looked old and huge but it was the voices that drew Sam in so he pushed to his feet, following them. Being more cautious as he got closer, Sam eased some thick brush aside to find…

TBC

**Author Note: **_Yep, it's longer than my normal chapters and it's another cliffhanger. What did Sam see on the other side of the brush? Where is Morgan in this maze of dangerous memories and will Dean find them before something else does? What did Pastor Jim whisper to Dean at the end? Also, where is the alternate 'Dean' now and what choices will he make if push comes to shove? I know, I'm so evil to ask these then make you wait, lol._


	18. Chapter 18

**Mirror Images**

**Author Note: Warning! **_Deeper into this chapter there may be some scenes that show more violence than others so be aware. Thanks!_

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Flashback, Boston 1999:**

"I swear that if bloody Paul Revere pops outta the dark on a horse shouting 'One if by land and two if by sea' I am so kicking mystic butt."

Morgan Harrison was not happy and it showed by the way she was muttering to herself in one of Boston's largest and oldest cemeteries in the middle of the night.

The seventeen year old British girl had been trying to figure out how to get close to check on Dean and Sam without their Father knowing when the call came of some mysterious happenings in Boston had come up from a local ghostbusting outfit.

Knowing that Kelly and the 'Raiders were stuck in California doing a job, she'd come alone to Boston and to what was supposed to have been a simple haunting.

"Last time I hit a cemetery at night, in the dark, I ran into a bloody zombie," she reminded herself then just as quickly shoved those thoughts away since that would also bring back other memories. Ones she tried to always avoid because they hurt.

It had been five years since she'd seen either Dean or Sam in person even though she and the boys tried to keep track of them and keep them safe, something that she was more cautious with ever since the events of San Antonio two years prior.

Lightly touching the scar on her neck that she normally kept hidden, Morgan shoved those thoughts away in order to focus on the area she'd come to see.

"Oh, I am so bloody well killing someone now," she growled, kneeling down to lightly touch the wire that was coming out of a well hidden box behind an old worn stone from the Revolutionary War. "Stupid college pranks. What happened to the good old fashion tormenting teachers or whatever it is they do?"

Jerking the wire without considering any risks, the girl wasn't prepared for the sudden explosion of bright light that blinded her while some type of gas was blown in her face, immediately making her choke and begin to lose consciousness.

"What the…" struggling to fight the urge to pass out and rub at her stinging, blinded eyes, Morgan was trying to move just as a strong arm reached from behind her to place a rag covered in a foul smelling liquid over her mouth and nose and she tried to fight harder until something sharp pieced her neck.

"The chloroform and the drug won't kill you but they will make it easier to handle you until I do put an end to this crap," the rough male voice spoke close to her ear as he tossed the semi-lucid girl down hard on the ground and not caring when her right shoulder struck hard enough that the pop was heard when it came out of place. "I'm tired of it all. My boys, despite my warnings, still think of you, Sam still talks about you and Jim thinks that threatening me is going to keep me from ending my problems. Not this time, little girl."

John Winchester had finally had enough of dealing with this girl. She'd been a thorn in his side since the summer of four years ago when he'd learned just what type of freak his sons had befriended and he'd regretted not killing her in San Antonio but he had thought that the lesson he'd taught her would be enough to keep her away from his sons.

Now as he pulled his knife, he'd make certain this was the final time he'd ever have to correct his youngest son over just who he needed to trust or let into his life. "Maybe San Antonio was painful and horrific, but before this is over you'll understand that you should've left my boys alone" he stated firmly, grabbing a handful of long hair to pull the now unconscious girl up more just as his blade was nearing her the sudden but jarring sound of a pistol being cocked close to the back of his head made the older man pause.

"Hey, Dad," a very grim voice spoke from behind John Winchester. "Want to tell me just what the hell you're doing?"

"Dean," John swore under his breath but didn't release his hold, just moved the knife as he shifted enough so that he could see his eldest son now standing a few feet behind him. "What're you and Caleb doing here?" he demanded, shooting the tall, bald young man with his son a dark look but brought his eyes back to the unmoving face of his son.

His Colt held steady, Dean Winchester struggled to keep his face bland when his entire body wanted to move. "Uh-huh, I asked you first," his eyes shifted carefully from John down and the muscle in his face twitched. "What are you doing, Dad?" he demanded again. "Where's Sammy?"

"Your brother's…with a friend of mine," John scowled, tightening his grip but noticing the way Dean's hand tightened on the weapon when the girl whimpered. "You going to shoot me, son?" he scoffed, eyeing Caleb who had stayed back but did have a weapon out. "Didn't we discuss this, Dean?"

Muscles jerking, Dean didn't lower the Colt as he took a cautious step forward but made certain to stay out of both his Father's reach and Caleb's line of sight. "Yeah, but I also remember telling you not to go near her…so what's this?" he asked, seeing the rag and needle. "You drugged her, you have a knife and she's hurt. How exactly were you going to cover her death, Dad? A mugging? A robbery gone bad? You think either Jim or her friends would buy that? You think I would?"

"You're going to go back and do what I sent you to do and leave this…person to me to handle," John growled, no longer amused. "She left you, she used you, she's trash, son. Now turn around and go away."

The pistol lifted to aim fully and while the twenty-one year old accepted he'd probably take one hell of a beating for this the first moment they were alone, Dean didn't care. His basic reaction was to act and he did. "Let her go, Dad…now," he gritted tightly, noticing the way Morgan's right arm was and could tell her shoulder was out of place and her breathing was shallow. "Dad, let Morgan go and leave."

"John, take off," Caleb urged, keeping a close eye on both father and son since he knew lately how volatile their relationship had been and he'd been keeping a closer eye on things ever since that summer. "C'mon, she's just a girl. Let her go, split and this doesn't have to go anywhere else."

Glaring at the other hunter, John decided to see how far his son would go with his bluff so he went to jerk her head up to touch the blade when the first shot struck the ground next to him. "Damn it, Dean!" he snapped, freezing the moment he saw that Caleb had moved into position with his weapon aimed. "This is a mistake."

"Yep, probably but it's my mistake now leave and Sam better be fine when I get home," Dean replied grimly, keeping the weapon aimed until his father released his hold and had stepped away with a murderous look. "Just go, Dad."

John stared at his son, realizing that he was holding control of his sons by a strand and knew that it was time to go to Plan B and do all that he could do to make sure the things he'd been learning came to pass. "We will talk, Dean," he warned, grabbing his bag and storming off without bothering to inform his older son where he'd left his little brother and guessing he'd have time to take on a hunt before having to deal with that. "Jim going to hear of this, Caleb?"

"Not unless you pull some other stupid crap stunt," the bald hunter shrugged, not caring for the cold look in his mentor's face and worried what else he'd do. "John, you gotta know that Jim wasn't kidding when he warned you before and Bobby sure as hell will blow you a new one if he ever found out about this or the other stuff."

"What stuff," John walked away while still seething, glancing back once to lock eyes with his son then left.

"_Sonuvabitch_," Dean gritted, shoving the weapon in the waistband of his jeans before dropping to the cold wet ground beside the still unmoving girl. "Morgan?" he gently touched her neck to feel for a pulse and scowled at the way it was beating,

Not sure if he could see exactly how badly she might've been hurt, Dean's first reaction was that he needed to get her out of the cemetery and to someplace warm and safe so that he could gauge what was wrong and let her sleep off both the chloroform and the drug.

"Go get the car," he tossed the keys to the Impala that John had given him when he turned twenty-one to a shocked Caleb while he was quickly jerking off his leather jacket to gently wrap it around the girl he once thought he was falling in love with until she abandoned him and Sam without a word five years ago but despite the anger and hurt he'd felt at that he still felt something else now. "Sshh, it's okay," he whispered into her ear after hearing a soft sound and knowing she was just reacting to the pain of her shoulder.

Being careful when he lifted her, Dean fought to keep his anger in check and try to remember that he was only doing what he would've done for anyone else. He'd been talking himself into that line ever since Caleb had told him that John was solo in Boston.

He and Caleb had been sent to Vermont on a hunt but after doing that, they'd swung by Boston before Dean went back to his little brother who he'd hated to leave with their Father. Twenty-four hours into their visit, Caleb had gone out to grab dinner when he'd spotted John Winchester and knowing that John was supposed to be spending the time with Sam had got instant bad feelings.

Not caring for cemeteries to begin with, Dean was only to glad when he saw the 1967 black Chevy Impala pull up at the front gate. "You drive," he told his friend after he'd opened the back door so Dean could place the injured girl inside without jarring her and caught the shock on Caleb's face since he was aware that Dean hardly let anyone touch this car much less drive it. "Just…get us back to the motel, Caleb."

Dean ignored the muttering his friend was doing as he sat in the backseat of his car while making sure to cradle Morgan close in his arms like he had before but now he was reasoning that he was just making sure to keep her shoulder immobilized until they could pop it into place.

The ride to the young hunters motel was the longest in Dean's life since every bump or stop seemed to hurt Morgan and despite it all, he still couldn't stand to see her in pain. "Easy, take it easy," he urged, easing her down onto his bed in the room while Caleb closed the door and settled in to watch.

"She need a hospital?" he asked the dark haired hunter curiously, noticing that his cocky friend's normally steady hands seemed to shake as they gently coaxed, soothed, and rubbed the British girl's dislocated shoulder until it finally popped back into place then he settled her back into an uneasy sleep. "Ace? Kid need a hospital?"

Hating her cry of pain when the shoulder popped back into place, Dean kept a hand on her shoulder as she whimpered in pain but it was her sudden movement to curl up that made him pause and think. Seeing a thin scar on her neck that he hadn't noticed before, Dean also caught other scars or marks that were new but he didn't think anything of that since it had been five years since they'd seen one another. Then he heard what she was whispering and suddenly froze.

"No…John, don't…" in pain, drugged and confused, Morgan's eyes opened without seeing anything but the memories. "Won't…let you…hurt…Sammy? No…Dean…Sammy needs…ah!"

"Morg, calm down. No one's hurting you and Sam's…fine," Dean wasn't sure about the last part but he also knew he didn't care for the icy feeling he had at the rest of her words, sitting beside her to just talk to her quietly while accepting the ice pack he was handed. "Thanks."

Caleb had been wondering how Dean would react if he ever crossed paths with the young British girl again after how things ended between them or at least how he believed they'd ended since he suspected and knew Jim Murphy suspected that John had a bigger part in why the girl left than they knew.

He knew that Dean said he was over it, that it hadn't meant anything but he knew his friend too well to buy that. He knew that Dean still had feelings for her and he could still recall the day he'd seen this girl hurl John Winchester into a tree. He could see her feelings plain right then.

"No, she'll be…fine once she sleeps this off and the pain stops," Dean finally answered his friend's question while lightly placing the ice pack over the spot on Morgan's shoulder that he knew needed it the most and running his knuckles down the girl's cheek as he would before to soothe her, swallowing when she, almost on instinct, turned her face into his hand. "Morg…Angel, it's…crap, now what?" he glared at his cell phone for a long moment when he noticed that it was a number he didn't know and almost didn't answer it until he noticed the extra strain on Morgan's face, feeling the fingers of her left hand pressing into his chest to sign something that only he understood.

Caleb was about to grab the phone when Dean snatched the annoying thing off the nightstand where he'd tossed it. "Yeah?" he growled, voice dropping to the rougher no nonsense one the young hunter had been using these days. "This is a really bad time to piss me off so…Sammy?" Dean's whole body language changed the moment he heard his brother's voice on the other end but then he caught the tone. "Sam, what's wrong?" he demanded.

Knowing that the seventeen year old was supposed to be back in New York, Caleb had been wondering how John would trust Sam enough to leave him alone after some of the fights they'd been having these past few months. Now as he watched Dean's face go from rigid over his concern for Morgan to surprise at hearing his brother's voice calling from a strange number and finally to shock then rage. "Ace?" he knew the moment Dean's eyes slit that something was really wrong.

"Sammy, calm down. What's…what the hell do you mean?" Dean's heart was in this throat as he listened to the frightened, slightly slurred words of his seventeen year old little brother as he rushed to get the words out. "Sam, tell me where you are and I'll be there," grabbing for a piece of hotel stationary to write when he scowled. "What the hell are you doing in Tennessee, Sam? Sammy? Hey, calm down, little brother. Caleb and I'll be…Sam? Sam!"

Blood like ice while his stomach was twisting in a sick rage, Dean's hand was still fisted around the phone and still hearing the fear in his brother's voice along with the pain when he seemed to be cut off. "Toss the stuff in the car," he finally spoke to his friend, voice low and dangerous. "We need to go…now."

"What's happening with Sam?" Caleb didn't bother to question the sudden rush to leave. He'd known the second that Dean's voice changed that something was seriously wrong with the younger boy. "Dean? What's Sam doing in Tennessee? I thought John said he was…"

Hard green eyes just lifted in reply and the other hunter quickly understood and just as quickly swore under his breath as he began to throw things in duffel bags. "What about her?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Damn," Dean hated this. He didn't want to leave Morgan alone like this since he knew she'd wake up alone, confused and frightened but he also knew his more important goal right then was to get to Sam. "Morgan…"

Twisting restlessly, she struggled as if trying to reach for something and automatically caught his hand the moment he held it out as if testing a theory but it was what he heard her whispering that stilled him.

"…Sammy…don't be scared. Dean'll…he'll come…he'll…Dean!" the cry was of fear and frustration and Dean understood that her fear was for his brother and the frustration was aimed at him.

"I'm going for Sammy, Angel," he assured her softly, carefully taking his jacket back but was certain to lay the blanket from the other bed over the girl to lessen the shock he was sure she was already in. "He'll be fine and…so will you."

Considering leaving a note, Dean quickly disregarded that idea. He knew it was petty but since he figured she hadn't left him a note to explain why she left then he didn't see the reason to leave one. He couldn't however just walk out that easily either.

In pain and reliving things that Dean couldn't see and wasn't sure he wanted to know about, Morgan was twisting again and trying to curl up. Kneeling beside the bed, he gently ran his hand over her face until she was quiet again. "I'm sorry Dad hurt you and I wish…hell, I wish you hadn't run away from me and I wish I could give Sammy what he wants so much but I can't…yet," he leaned over to brush a soft kiss over her cheek. "One day, Morgan. One day I will make this right…I will get you back…"

**Present time, Dean's mind:**

Sam swallowed the sour taste in his mouth as he watched this image slowly fade but it didn't go out of picture like the rest of what he'd been seeing had. This one just dimmed which made his warning bells go off.

"I never did do either of those things, did I, Sam?"

Instant relief filling him, Sam just turned to meet the calm green eyes of… "Dean."

Dean Winchester looked around the room as if remembering before finally shifting his gaze back to Sam. "Hey, little brother."

Taking in the blue jean jacket and white T-shirt his brother wore, Sam's inner self was advising caution but his relief at hearing his brother, seeing him after believing that his mind might be gone for good made him forget the first lesson he'd been taught and the advice given today.

"Dean, I thought that Morgan and I would never find you," he exclaimed, relief plain and emotions clear as he stepped closer to reach out in pure instinct. "You're hurt so bad and those damn Angels did a number on your head this time that…"

Returning the strong hug fully, Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know," he replied quietly then chuckled. "I know something else too…"

Sam tensed suddenly as a cold chill shot through him just as a burning pain slammed into his already injured shoulder. "What the…" trying to jerk back to see what had hit him, he caught the light reflect off the already bloodied knife that was being pulled out. "No…Dean…"

"I taught you better than that," Dean finished, turning the knife in his hand in order to finish the job. "Guess Dad was right…about her…and you. So long, Sam…"

**Outside in the Panic Room:**

"What the hell?" Bobby Singer had been growling at both Angel and mystic for the past several hours since all they could do was pace, or in his case wheel, around his Panic Room while praying this all worked out. The moment that Sam Winchester's still body jackknifed violently and his shoulder began bleeding, the time for waiting was over. "MacShayne!"

Jack had been struggling to get a hold on what was happening inside Dean Winchester's mind but so far was having no luck. He'd just been about to go see how his brother and the so-called Prophet were doing when he felt the change only seconds before the younger Winchester began to jerk and bleed.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled, dropping to his knees but the moment he touched Sam, he knew what was happening. "Ethan!" he shouted, forgetting the phone and using a more direct route of communication. "Tell that moron to write faster! Zach's down to his last move and we're losing!"

Castiel was frowning as he considered. "We can't get in yet Zachariah or his Enforcers can," he mused grimly, seeing that Morgan was also tensing while noticing that her nose was bleeding more and her right hand was jerking slightly. "She'll convulse soon if we don't get them awake."

"Give me some good news, Unc," Jack snapped, ignoring the shouts and curses behind him as he mentally went through every spell he knew that might help him when he felt something in his pocket and grabbed for it.

The tiny Angel medallion that his mother had left with him seemed to spark in his hand and with a tight smile, the mystic was quick to act. "Okay, Dean, let's see what you can do if we level the playing field a little," he muttered, placing it in the same hand that held his own amulet. "I can't use this because of who my Father is but you…you, kiddo, are about to give the Garrison one helluva shock. Fight for them, Winchester. Fight like you've never fought before or else all four of you are dead."

**In Dean's mindscape:**

Having reluctantly run as she was told to, Morgan Harrison had passed through several different visions that showed her parts of her friend's life. Some she knew were true since she'd been in the background for most of those while others she had to fight just to get through and pray these were just made up to hurt because she refused to think that her friend had been hurt or had done some of the things shown.

John's attack on top of everything else she'd been through lately had made Morgan weaker than she liked considering she knew the risks involved. Leaning against a pole in what appeared to be the parking lot of a bar, she knew this place because it was the one event that she still liked to throw up to Dean now…especially since it allowed Sam to know his brother had been closer than he had known.

Morgan had picked up early on that Dean liked to make annual trips to California to check on Sam at Stanford so Modesto, California had started out as a typical trip to the West Coast for Dean. At least until he crossed paths with and hustled the wrong group of bikers and the night, which should've been quiet, turned dangerous.

Having already gotten word that something wasn't right at Stanford with the younger Winchester, Morgan had been debating on which direction to go in when it became clear that Dean had stepped in over his head even before his arm and leg were broken and it was necessary for the Queens Court Raiders to step in while a call to a close friend in Palo Alto had helped Sam before he was beaten too severally.

After seeing several instances where Dean had been hurt or involved in things that she hadn't known made Morgan wonder just what else she'd missed or failed to protect either of her friends from when the balmy California night time seemed to explode into a sickening, gut wrenching explosion of lights, sounds and emotions before she found herself being forced to grab onto a tree in some wild, out of the way place that she didn't recognize but still somehow knew.

"…Sam…" she whispered, heart pounding as her hand seemed to freeze for a moment when pain went through her veins. Fighting past that in order to see what this was, she bit her lip while pushing the door to a well built but also well secured cabin open to show…

**Flashback, 1999 in the mountains of Tennessee:**

"That was the stupidest move of your life, boy," Russell Young had originally thought this was going to be an easy job only to have it turn out to be a huge pain in his ass.

He'd thought that repaying a favor owed to John Winchester would be simple. Take his seventeen-year-old ingrate of a son down to his cabin in Tennessee hills to teach the kid some manners and also teach him what could happen in the real world.

John had always talked about his boys but Russ had noticed that the older hunter had been bitching more about his boys the past few years.

New to hunting but a friend of John's from the Vietnam era, Russ liked to think he knew a thing or two and had instantly picked up a reading from both Winchester sons. The older one was the one that Russ knew to be cautious of because while he was cocky and arrogant the kid had the skills to be dangerous if he had to be but the younger one was the one that became Russ's interest.

Sam, as John liked to say, was a let down in the hunting area. The kid preferred to play soccer to learning how to shoot a bow. He wanted school and normal rather than carry on what was an important part of the family dynamic. The kid also couldn't tell good from evil since as Russ had heard it both boys had befriended something that should've been put down the first night Dean had laid eyes on her.

John had sent his eldest out on some hunt in New England while giving Russ orders to handle Sam while he went off to deal with some unfinished business in Boston. The red haired hunter didn't see any issue with that order since he had his own ways of handling spoiled, ungrateful brats and the needle filled with a strong tranquilizer worked well once he took the kid off his feet.

He supposed he should've known from that first moment that dealing with this kid wasn't going to be the piece of cake that he'd thought it would be considering that Sam Winchester, for all his awkwardness and dislike of hunting, was as agile as a cat and knew how to fight.

Russ had finally gotten the upper hand only when he'd grabbed the kid from behind and was finally able to hit him with the drug. Then it was just a matter of keeping him drugged until he had him secured in the cabin.

The cabin had been built in the hills in a remote location so that Russ wasn't disturbed when he needed to come here. He used it for special purposes like breaking in new candidates for a friend's so-called revolutionary movement up farther in the mountains or for breaking runaways or for doing in special demons that might get too loud or messy.

He'd known this favor for John would probably get loud but he hadn't counted on all the damn trouble this kid was proving to be.

The drugs kept the boy semi-lucid since he needed him alert in order to learn and understand why this was happening. He thought his methods of persuasion would keep him docile enough to know that fighting would just draw this out and after a week of this he'd thought he'd finally tamed him. Russ knew he'd thought wrong when he'd woken up after passing out drunk to find the kid gone.

Drugged, hurt and disoriented kept Sam from running too far but he'd managed to get his hands, which he'd cuffed behind him that night, around him somehow that he was able to find Russ's cell phone in the van.

Furious at the attempt to escape, Russ didn't care who the kid might've called when he slammed a heavy hand held weight against the back of his skull and dragged him back inside the cabin before proceeding to take the punishment up several notches.

"Your old man warned me what a selfish little bastard you were, Sammy but I thought by this point, after all last week, we'd come to an understanding," Russ reached up to tighten the police style riot cuffs he was now using to secure the teenager to the heavy bedframe. "You do what I say, learn what your Dad sent you here to learn and I wouldn't have to beat you or drug you because this time your big brother isn't coming to save the day and John's taking care of that other little savior you've had."

Drugged, beat raw, abused for days on end, Sam was only blearily aware of things since he'd made a break for it after his captor had gotten sloppy and thought a week of abuse had made him give in. The boy thought he recalled dialing the one number he knew by heart and blindly told the gruff voice that answered what was wrong, what was happening.

Sam thought he'd heard his older brother's voice change but the panic and confusion had been too great to be sure but the last thing he did clearly remember saying was something he'd only say to his brother. "'I'm…scared, De'n,'" then it had all went black until he woke up tied much tighter than before and feeling the burning slashes of the heavy belt that was striking him as the hunter raged.

Blindly accepting that Dean was states and miles away almost forced Sam to give in to the fear and despair that was building in his heart since he knew what his father would've told Russell Young to do to him. Unable to move away from the belt since he'd been tied fully this time and drugged much heavier, he couldn't keep the tears from falling in pain and loss until he thought he could hear something else.

A whisper soft voice that he'd only been hearing in his dreams since things had gone wrong five years earlier seemed to whisper to him. '_He'll come, Sammy. Dean'll be there for you, just stay strong._'

"Your Dad said I could pull out the stops to make you see reason, boy," Russ looked down at the bloody welts and bruises this round of abuse had caused before placing a calloused hand on bare skin and sneering when the boy's glassy eyes seemed to jerk open. "Seems to me that John might've beaten you bit too much so that it doesn't effect you so much," he mused, considering the one thing that he'd learned did scare the boy. "Maybe it's time to show you some new tricks."

Drugged or not, body in agony or not, Sam's inner self knew the danger he was in and strained to free his arms in order to fight because he wasn't going through this again but found the plastic cuffs tight enough that he felt them cut his skin when he tried to break free.

Not able to scream due to the heavy leather gag that he'd woken up to this time, he still strained until his battered body finally gave in to the pain and exhaustion. He'd just closed his eyes to pray that he passed out or was beat unconscious again when he heard the best sound in the last few weeks.

Disgusted at how easily the boy gave in, Russ was determined to make him fight or struggle just to see if he could. Since he'd already decided that he wouldn't make the same mistakes twice if the kid did try to escape, he'd already burned his shirt, shoes and bloody jeans so that escape would be harder that way. He was just moving a hand to touch his young captive's neck when a sense of danger began to warn him but he chose to ignore it until it was too late.

"Hey, asshole."

Surprised at the very fact that someone had broken through his security, Russ was whirling while reaching for the gun he'd kept by the bed as a teasing reminder at just how close freedom could be when he found himself hauled away from the bed with a strong right hand slammed against his jaw. "Who the hell…?" he muttered, shocked when the blow actually moved him back but stopped when he found himself staring down the barrel of a mean looking Colt .45 along with green eyes that held no doubt of their owner's intention.

"You're Dad said you were…ugh!" he grunted when a steel toed boot was kicked hard into his stomach causing him to fall back only to have a series of well placed fists strike him in rapid succession.

Having been stewing on rage since tearing out of Boston, Dean's rage had all but boiled over the moment he and Caleb finally found the cabin in the hills that it took a day and a lot of cash just to learn its location. He saw red the second he broke the final security lock and entered the cabin that was something out of a modern day horror movie.

His vision blurred from red rage to pure black the moment he found his brother and his tormentor. Just a quick glance told Dean all he needed to know and the moment he saw the creep's hand move to touch, he acted and he would've probably beat the son of a bitch to death if Caleb's voice hadn't finally registered. "What?" he snapped in a low dead tone.

Caleb had known how this trip would probably end and any doubts he had left vanished as soon as he caught up to his friend, took in the scene in the room and saw how far gone Dean's rage had taken him.

"_Shiiiit_," he breathed after entering the room and neared the bed. He'd seen Sam hurt pretty bad a few times but nothing like this and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the kid had probably been put through after a quick look through the nightstand drawer showed him the needles, the various drugs and other tools that made him sick. "Hey, kid," he'd noticed that the seventeen year old's hazel eyes had opened as soon as he'd heard his brother's voice but the shock was plain as was the pain and fear. "Hold on while I…Sam, calm down. It's…"

Sam's mind heard his brother and Caleb but the thought of being touched right then caused him to nearly hyperventilate which was a bad thing since he was still bound and gagged.

"Damn it," Caleb hissed upon seeing what was happening and knew what he needed. The problem was getting through to Dean. "Dean!" he called, trying to reassure the younger boy without scaring him more when he realized that the pounding was still going on across the room and rolled his eyes. "I should've just called Jim or Singer," he muttered, putting two fingers to his mouth to whistle loudly and giving a louder, much sterner shout. "Hey, Winchester! Earth to Dean! Goddamn it…Ace!"

"What?" Dean finally snapped back without looking, his fist positioned to give another blow to the man who'd hurt… "Sam?"

Managing not to give the reply that was on the tip of his tongue, Caleb jerked his head down toward the bed. "That's kind of what I've been shouting at you for," he told him. "He won't let me cut him loose and those are cop cuffs so…"

"You are a dead man," Dean snarled to the nearly unconscious hunter before giving a final blow to his jaw before dropping him to floor. "Watch him and if he moves…shot his goddamn kneecap," he growled, standing and forcing himself to calm down before slowly approaching the bed. "Sammy."

Wide, glassy hazel eyes blown with shock were staring up as Dean neared the bed to slowly sit down but made no move to reach for his knife yet as he took in the various cuts, welts and bruises. "I'm here, Sammy," he finally spoke, voice deep with far more emotion than he'd normally show with Caleb around. "Just hang on and I'll get you loose," he promised.

Fighting to steady shaking hands, Dean's first move was to remove the gag. Feeling the tears on his younger brother's fevered cheek when his fingers moved to undo the buckle, he kept the curses that wanted to come to himself even as he was hurling the strap across the room. "Easy, Sam, easy," he urged quietly the moment he heard the whisper soft gasps. "Caleb, find some…"

"Water, got it," the other hunter had been one step ahead of his friend as he handed him a small glass that he'd filled with water from his own canteen that he'd thought to bring in with him. "Ace, he's been…"

The dark look that was shot his way shut him up as Caleb went back to watching the older man and trying to make himself as oblivious as possible but soon realized that Dean's attention was now solely on his brother.

Dean was ignoring the obvious injuries now in favor of getting Sam loose and out of there. Being careful to lock eyes with his younger brother as he slowly took his knife from the sheath on his belt, he showed it and bit back the curse when he saw the boy cringe at the sight of the blade. "Sam, watch my eyes, don't move and I'll have you loose in a second," he promised, feeling the arm closest to him jerk the moment he touched it but Dean didn't let on.

Instead, he gently gripped a clenched fist until he slowly felt Sam's fingers uncurl in order to grip his own. Then he carefully went to work on the plastic cuffs.

Feeling blood, Dean once again had to fight to keep his temper down. Having pretty much raised Sam since the night of the fire that changed their lives, he knew how his brother would react in most situations and this one, he'd be more afraid of his brother's temper than anything else right then.

Hearing a grunt, he quickly glanced to be sure his friend had things under control when he noticed Caleb looking back at him innocently. "Foot slipped," came the easy reply as the young bald hunter went back to watching the other man and casually examining things near him.

"Uh-huh," Dean merely nodded then returned his attention to his brother while wishing that Morgan was with him for this if only for moral support and to keep Sam calm. "One down, one more to go," he'd watched the pale face for signs of extra pain when he carefully eased his arm down in case the shoulder had been dislocated or hyper-extended but didn't see any so he took that as a good sign. "Damn."

Sam's kept his tired eyes locked on Dean's face, not missing the tiny tells that told him that his brother was beyond furious. Hissing as pain hit in his other wrist, he heard the quiet apology as Dean finished cutting through the plastic and then made short work of the ones on his ankles.

He'd only just begun to allow himself to think or believe that he was safe when he found himself pulled up into strong arms that shook only barely before Sam finally gave in to knowing he was safe and returned the gesture fully, if weakly but still struggled not to break down.

"C'mere, Sammy," Dean had pulled his shaking brother into his arms the moment he'd finished cutting the cuffs. "It's okay now. I have you and we're getting out of here," he murmured, feeling the arms hold on gingerly at first before Sam finally latched on and the moment Dean heard the first quiet sob trying to be buried he knew what he needed to do. "Caleb, watch that bastard a minute."

Helping Sam stand was the first clue that told Dean that his little brother, who had shot to nearly 6'4" by this point, wasn't going to be an easy one to get outside but he knew that Sam wouldn't let Caleb near him right then.

Not seeing his brother's jeans, shirt or shoes made him snarl but bury it while quickly bundling him into his own jacket while getting a better hold of him. "Let's get you outside," he urged quietly, meeting Caleb's eyes in silent message to wait there as he slowly helped Sam outside to the Impala.

"…De'n…" Sam wanted to talk, he wanted to say so much but right then his head was so blurry and he was so tired that he was barely aware of his brother's deep voice talking non-stop as they got outside the cabin and only once the cool mountain air hit his face did Sam actually believe he was safe and free and he tried to grasp onto the solid arm closest to him. "I…I…tried to…Dad…where's…"

Easing Sam into the Impala's backseat and wrapping a blanket around him to try to still off any more shock or cold, Dean knelt in the open door to finally look at his brother fully. Peeling back one eyelid before a restless hand knocked his away told him that Sam was not only deep in shock due to the injuries and cold but he'd been drugged pretty heavily.

Carding shaking fingers through unruly brown hair like he had once to soothe Sam after a nightmare, Dean knew he needed to get his brother away from here before he could deal with the other numerous injuries and that might also require a trip to a clinic and a phone call to either Pastor Jim or Bobby.

"I know you tried to fight, Sammy. I know you did and you did real good because you got away long enough to call me," he smiled tightly, seeing the way Sam was curling up so that he could lay on the seat and kept his hand on a trembling shoulder. "I shouldn't have left you and don't worry about Dad. I'll handle it."

Dean waited until he thought Sam had fallen into an uneasy sleep due to the exhaustion he must have been feeling and the shock he was in before making certain the blanket was up around him. "I'll be right back, Sammy," he whispered, closing the door quietly to face the cabin before finally allowing his anger to surface again with a snarl.

"John'll hear about this, boy!" Russ Young was spitting blood from loose teeth as he tried to move cautiously but knew the moment he did the shaved headed young man in the room with him just moved his own weapon. "I was just doing what their…"

"Yeah, how about you tell me exactly what my Dad told you to do to my brother?" Dean's eyes were hard but it was the tone that told Caleb how this altercation would end. "He tell you to drug him senseless or beat him raw or…"

"John said do what needed to be done to make the boy a man and that's what I…ugh!" Russ grunted when he was jerked to his feet only to have a fist glance off the side of his head.

Still seeing his brother tied, bloody, drugged and scared made Dean's rage all the more brighter so with Sam out of danger and the knowledge that his father hadn't just tried to kill someone who had been a friend but he'd also given his seventeen year old son to a sadist made up his mind even as his hand was going for the weapon.

"Ace…" Caleb saw his friend's hand reach for the Colt. "We need to get Sam out of here…"

"Yeah, go outside with him and start the car so it stays warm while I finish up here," Dean replied without looking, feeling the look he knew was being aimed his way. "Caleb…this bastard touched my brother. I swore once that no one would hurt Sam and he did more than that."

Understanding Dean's protective streak toward his brother, Caleb also understood something else. "He's a hunter, Dean. You kill a hunter…"

"He's a sadist who gets his kicks hurting people, Caleb," Dean shot back, thinking again to the young woman he'd left in Boston and remembered her reaction to the truckers who had tried to hurt his brother five years ago. "No one hurts Sammy. Please, just go outside with him."

Hating this, Caleb did go outside to see that Sam was still sleeping but that the boy seemed tense as he reached in to start the car, flip on the heater and also the stereo, hoping the latter would cover any noise that was sure to come.

Leaning against the Impala, he waited a good fifteen minutes before deciding it was time to go collect his friend when Dean slowly left the cabin to come toward him with a cold, hard look on his lean face. "Ace?"

"Let's get him the hell outta here," Dean muttered, refusing to think much more on what just happened inside the cabin but was content knowing that his brother wouldn't be hurt again by this nightmare even though his nightmare was just beginning…

**Present in Dean's mind:**

"Sammy…" Morgan whispered, picking up the leftover emotions from the image made her feel sicker than she already was. "Dean should've been with you…"

"To be fair, Dean had already been sent on a hunt when his father came up this plan."

The voice that spoke from behind her still made her freeze because she could still hear it speaking to her in New Orleans, West Virginia and finally in the Alamo only recently. This was one voice that she knew would always scare her.

"Zachariah," turning slowly, she took two steps back as if to keep distance between them while reaching for the knife that was normally sheathed on her hip only to feel the sheath empty.

"Dean's mind is still under the control of my drugs," he gloated, running a hand over his suit jacket before smiling that same oily smile that still haunted her dreams. "I've allowed you and Sam to have this sense of freeing him but I can yank him back with a snap of my fingers, little witch."

Feeling her veins burn from the drugs she'd been given as well as the effects of the wounds that weren't healing, Morgan struggled against the rapid fire images that were coming now until she felt herself start to fall into darkness just as something sharp pierced her side.

"I really would prefer you see Michael claim his vessel before you die but let's see how long you can survive like this," yanking the sharp Angel blade out of her side and smiled at her cry of pain. "Dean won't save you this time like he did in Boston nor will he save poor Sam," Zachariah told her with a sneer, reaching down to grab her arm but gave a snarl of pain when her hand flashed to allow what little bit of energy she could spare to burn him. "I will rip your heart out in front of Sam before I allow Dean to kill him!" he growled.

Panic for her friends fueled her to move but agony flared from the mark the Angel had seared on her stomach and she fell. "You…won't hurt them," she gritted, feeling something tug on her mind like a soft touch and then she heard the tiny yelp of what sounded like one of those annoying Hell-Yorkies she'd made Jack take off her hands. "You want Dean and Sam, Zachariah?" struggling to her feet. Morgan tried to reach out to locate Sam or even Dean but felt nothing but an icy wall and that worried her. "Fine, you kill me first."

Knowing the offer would be too much for the arrogant Angel to resist, Morgan's main plan was to buy Sam the time to find his brother or for Jack to find a way to get them out while healing Dean's mind. She knew her injuries were catching up to her and without the bond with Dean she had no way of knowing where the boys were or if Sam was safe.

Needing to put as much distance between herself and the Angel as possible, she strained to pull up an image that might give her an edge but as she found herself literally falling into a new vision, Morgan groaned.

"This is so not fair," she muttered to herself, managing to get to her feet even as she was gauging the landscape of the area surrounding Jim Murphy's cabin in Blue Earth, Montana.

Owning several hundred acres of woodland surrounding the cabin, including a private lake, the British woman could recall spending much of her youth exploring these woods but it was the memories of the lake that were pulling her right then.

It was shortly after meeting Dean and Sam that Jim had arranged a small get together for Sam's birthday. She'd lost count to the times Dean had tossed his little brother off the pier and into that clear blue water while flirting with her.

Wary of being anywhere close to John Winchester, Morgan recalled that she'd spent most of her time outdoors that weekend. It was also the first time she began to understand that the elder Winchester brother was more than he let on to be.

She'd been afraid of John, even being near the man made her senses scream warnings, so she'd come to sit on the pier as the sun was setting evening only to discover Dean swimming in the lake and as he treaded water next to the pier while lightly teasing her until he climbed up to sit beside her.

It was that night that Morgan discovered that even shirtless, even flirting like crazy, Dean was more cautious with her than he normally might have been with another girl and she didn't feel scared with him.

"Of course, the shirtless thing still was in his favor," she murmured, smiling at the memory until an eerie chill filled her and she knew that danger was close.

"You can't hide forever, girl," Zachariah's voice called in a sneering tone as he entered this vision to find his victim. "I will find you and I will kill you. Then I will make certain that Sam follows you long before Lucifer can claim him and then Michael will have what is his."

Looking around, the acres of wood seemed darker than normal and she knew that was the Angel's doing. He was building on her fear and that could be her undoing if she didn't fight her fear and her past in order to not only survive but to also save her friends.

"You want me, you fat bloody asshole then come get me," she invited, gritting her teeth against the pain or old wounds and the new bleeding wound in her side as she ran into the deepest section of woods while praying her friends were safe. "Dean…please find Sammy and get out," she whispered, missing the shadows that seemed to be in the woods as she ran.

Standing on the edge of the woods, Zachariah sneered. Not liking how his powers seemed to not be working as well as he expected them to but brushed it aside in his confidence of his win. "Find her and bring her to me so that I can personally kill her," he ordered the half dozen or so Enforcers that he had with him while stepping back to consider the rest of his plot. "Now, Dean…it's time to finish this and claim my victory."

**Elsewhere in Dean's mind:**

"So long, Sam…"

Already injured, emotionally and physically drained by the recent events, this latest injury had taken Sam to the point where he was willing to give up until he thought of what he had to lose.

Not only the brother he still looked up to but also his friend who he was understanding more and more just how much she'd down for them without either he or Dean being aware of it.

Struggling past the agony searing his back and shoulder again, he was trying to move to either avoid what was certainly a killing blow or grab the wrist holding the knife when once again he was seventeen and hearing the best sound in his life.

"_Hey_!"

Turning with the knife held ready to slash at the unexpected voice, the now evil 'Dean' snarled when a foot kicked the blade out of his hand. "You can't be here," he snapped, staring hard at the new arrival.

"My mind, jackass. I can be anywhere I want to be and besides, that's my little brother you're trying to stab," Dean countered, memories rushing him of another time he'd faced himself over Sam and that was the time that shapeshifter had assumed his form…something that Dean knew still bothered Sam. "You want to go back into the bottle easy or hard?"

Laughing, the evil 'Dean' sneered while glancing down at Sam then back at the real Dean Winchester. "What's the difference? You stabbed the kid in San Antonio and what makes you think I'm just something created out of your mind?" he lunged forward to try to grab the core self only to miss as Dean shifted.

"Great, you're something Zach created to hurt Sam or me?" Dean wondered what would happen if he just shot this arrogant version of himself but soon had more to worry about when his other self suddenly took him offguard after a cold burst of pain hit his head. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

"You're still under Zachariah's hold, stupid. All of this is fake and with a snap of his fingers you'll be right back where he wants you," 'Dean' told him, throwing a hard punch to Dean's head but grunted when the other man held on to slam a headbutt into his forehead which caused both Dean's pain. "You really think either Sammy or little Morgan will want you back after what you did to them?"

Memories flashing that he barely recalled at the moment, Dean could see the cold torture room that he'd been held in. He remembered fighting the brutal Enforcer's techniques, he remembered seeing the images they forced in his mind but what he remembered right then was feeling his hand holding the knife that not only stabbed his brother but cut into…

"Cut, burn, etch, you name, you did it," the evil 'Dean' nodded calmly, smirking. "I can tell you how much you liked to hear her scream, to hear her try to beg for you or would you rather…ugh!"

"_Shut. The. Hell. Up_," Dean snarled, refusing to give in to this thing or to let it hurt anyone else. "You, all this, Zachariah…you can all go join Lucifer in hell but get the hell outta my head!"

Grabbing the approaching fist, Dean twisted hard to throw his doppleganger off balance but it was a pained sound from Sam that actually distracted him and caused a confusing situation to get even more so.

Seeing that Dean was distracted the moment Sam went to move, the other image shifted so that both were now wearing identical clothes which made it impossible to tell one from the other. "Let's see how well little brother knows us," he sneered, kicking the knife over to Sam who was finally able to see past the blinding pain only to find himself staring at two identical Deans.

"Oh, crap," he breathed, arm throbbing when the knife was kicked over to him. "What?"

"Sam, kill this son of a bitch so we can find Morgan and get out of here," 'evil' Dean urged while shooting his glaring opponent a smirk.

"Oh, cute," Dean rolled his eyes but knew the way that Sam was looking that the kid was too confused, too upset and too in shock for this to sink in yet. "Let Sammy go and I'll rip your lungs out for you," he offered, ducking the next blow but grunted when a hard elbow struck a broken rib that also had a serious slash in his side. "Sammy, run!"

Staring between the two battling Dean Winchesters reminded Sam far too much of the 'shifter mess shortly after he and Dean started hunting together again. He'd been able to know that it hadn't been his brother but now, after so many issues between them, he wasn't as positive and if he chose wrong…

"Okay, Sam," evil 'Dean' invited, holding his double easily since Dean was still weak from his own wounds and the drugs still inside him. "You know which one of us is the fake, little brother."

Seeing one Dean go down to one knee after a blow to the back of the neck took him down, Sam considered the knife in his hand before reaching for the gun that had fallen to the floor in the scuffle. Shifting the aim between the two, he looked hard while praying he could do this because a cold spot in his heart was telling him they were running out of time.

"Ask something only Dean would know then," 'Dean' invited, hissing as fingers dug into the soft spot in his elbow but he didn't break his hold on the main self.

"Zach and his bastards have done a number on him and there isn't much about us they don't know," Dean snapped, hating that his brother had to go through this. "Sammy, go find Morg and get the hell outta here but…shoot us both first," he felt his double tense at that suggestion and saw Sam's face show surprise. "It's the only way to be sure, kiddo and it's the only way to ensure that both you and Morgan are safe."

Already confused, Sam's eyes jerked at the suggestion to shoot both men and he began paying more attention as he looked between them. "What was the name of the woman in white on our first case back together?" he asked warily, seeing two sets of green eyes roll and knew that was too easy.

"Constance Welch," evil 'Dean' shook his head but knew he had to get Sam to reconsider this crazy idea of shooting them both. "Too easy and this idea of shooting us both should tell you which one of us is the fake."

"Yeah, it should," Sam agreed, dropping his eyes for a moment as if considering while pointing the Colt toward the floor. "I told my brother something in the Alamo while trying to snap him back to reality. What was it?" he demanded, hoping this worked when he saw one confused face and one smug one.

Evil 'Dean' took advantage of the momentary confusion of the other to slam his fist into his side where he knew a deep burn still festered and turned to face Sam. "You…you told me about how Dad set Morgan up for those two hunters in the Alamo when she was sixteen. How they hurt her, assaulted her for him and how Dad then put that hunter's brand on her shoulder blade," he sneered down at the shocked, slowly angering face of his double before holding out a hand. "Now, is that good enough?"

"Yeah, it is," Sam replied then swiftly shifted, aimed and fired the .45 into that 'Dean's' chest and stared hard at the disbelieving look. "Dean wouldn't remember me telling him that because he was too far gone and…I never told him about the brand or Dad touching her. Only Chuck, me and someone who'd seen her thoughts or knew from Zachariah what had happened would know about that," he stepped forward to point the weapon again and fired it once more into the face of the slowly vanishing image. "You're not my brother."

Quiet for a long moment, Sam cautiously let the pistol fall from weakening fingers to finally look and meet green eyes that were now intently watching him. "Hey," he greeted softly, not sure what emotions he should be feeling after learning what he had, seeing what he had and not certain what his brother knew or was feeling. "Dean…"

"You're sure I'm me?" Dean asked, curious but also concerned since he could see the varying emotions in his younger brother's eyes and long buried instincts were humming. "How? You might've just shot the…"

"I watched your face when he told me what I'd said," Sam shook his head slowly, unaware of how he'd started to shake when he finally gave a small smile like he would when unsure. "He showed nothing. You would've been seething but I saw the anger in your eyes and the way your face changed when he…I'm sorry, Dean. None of this shoulda happened and…"

Listening to the rush of words told Dean what was probably going to happen soon so he pushed to his feet, ignoring the pain he was still in and the whirl of memories and feelings that were swimming in his heart to take a slow step forward, expecting Sam to be scared after all this but the moment the younger man didn't move was a dead giveaway.

"Sorry for what, Sammy?" he asked, looking around to see that the image was fading from a hotel room in Boston that he still clearly remembered to a black top road surrounded by trees. "I have enough memory to know that I think I should be apologizing to you, don't you think?"

"I left you alone," Sam argued, recent events, exhaustion and fear all were now hitting him harder that he'd finally found his brother but there was still a cold fear deep inside him that was warning him of danger. "I fell for it all and you were nailed. If I hadn't left you at Bobby's…"

Laying a hand on the shoulder that wasn't bleeding, Dean felt his brother jerk at the touch as if Sam was surprised but he didn't move when Dean placed his other hand on the side of his neck. "If you hadn't left then how much worse would Morgan have been hurt?" he asked quietly, forcing down the surge of bloody images that came with the mention of her name. "Before I hurt her, that is."

"She doesn't blame you, Dean," Sam remarked, hoping he was right. "She's frightened but she's still hurt and…I don't know where she is in here and…I thought we'd lost you," the last rush of words came with a bitter sob as the buried emotions came out. "You're still hurt so bad and the drugs…Jack, Bobby…that future you aren't sure if…Dean, please don't die.

"I don't blame you if you hate me. I know I've done a lot of stupid crap, especially lately and if I would've known about it then hell, I probably would've stayed gone or…" he knew he was rambling but not knowing what the future held for them had Sam needing to say as much of this as he could to his brother. "Why didn't you kill me?"

In the process of deciding if he should see how bad the kid was bleeding or just take Sam, find Morgan and try to wake up had Dean's thoughts elsewhere until that last question hit him and he felt his blood go cold. "Come again?" he stared at the too wide, wet hazel eyes that had never failed to cause his inner walls to crack to try to catch up to what all his brother had been saying. "Sam, we've been through this. I don't hate you. I didn't want you to stay gone and why the hell would I kill you?" he demanded, frustration showing when he finally gripped Sam's neck in both hands like he would when he needed to make contact. "What the hell have you seen, Sammy?"

Catching the way Sam's eyes lowered and the way he bit his lower lip made Dean recall something Jim Murphy had said and he frowned, beginning to let go only to feel Sam grab for his wrists as if needing to maintain that simple touch. "You weren't supposed to know about that, Sam," he sighed, figuring Hell was in the forefront of his brother's thoughts right then. "Whatever you've seen here about my time in the Pit… you know that demons and Angels lie so…"

"Did they lie when they said that you gave in after thirty years to protect me?" Sam countered, feeling the wind blow through the trees and swearing he could hear a tiny dog bark from somewhere. "Would Morgan lie too, Dean? She said that she dreamed of you in Hell and Jack said that she was feeling…"

"Sonuvabitch," Dean hissed, not considering that and swearing he was throttling his friend for not mentioning that little detail to him but right then needing to get Sam focused on something else. "Sammy, what I did in the Pit…the reasons I finally gave in…are mine and I never wanted you or Morg to know about it, them or my time down there because I wouldn't bring that crap down on either of you," he began quietly, knowing that this time he wouldn't be able to keep the truth from his brother but not wanting to handle it right then. "I never doubted my choice when I made that deal to save you, I never blamed you for what happened when the deal came due and while I may not like some of the choices you were led to make while I was gone…I do not hate you," he stressed this by squeezing Sam's neck firmly then smiled a little. "You're still my kid brother and I'm…proud of you. You've survived crap that you never should've been asked to face. Like this…"

Stepping back a step, Dean motioned around them. "You're hurt, shut up because I know what I did there, Sam, but you've still tried to protect Morg and you came in here not knowing what you'd see or how I'd be. Why'd you do that, Sam?"

"Because you're my brother," was the instant reply as Sam shrugged then winced as his shoulder reminded him that it was there. "You gave up so much for me growing up, took all the crap Dad dished out…though you lied to me about what happened between you and Dad that weekend after we left Bobby's," he missed the flash of dark emotion in Dean's face as he went to look at his shoulder only to have a gentle hand move his away to see how it was bleeding. "Dad let you be…"

"I lied because I didn't want to scare you and I took the crap to keep you safe," Dean wondered just who or what was controlling the images and just what else either his brother or Morgan might have seen. "It was just something that I handled and not the first time but there are things that you don't need to know, Sam," he shook his head. "You'll be eighty and I'll still try to protect you from crap."

"If Lucifer or Michael have their way I won't see eighty," Sam grumbled, hissing as Dean applied pressure to the new knife wound to try to stop the bleeding since they were short on supplied at the moment.

Not caring for the way the wound looked or the other wounds he could tell Sam was hiding at the moment, Dean snorted. "No one's wearing my little brother and the Angels can go to Hell because I'm not saying yes, Sammy," he vowed firmly, reaching up to once again grip Sam's neck. "I feel like crap and I know I'm hurt but I also know what I want and that's to get you and Morg the hell back to Bobby's and see how much sucking up I have to do to get her to trust me again," he smiled in the same slightly cocky way that gave Sam relief. "You up to that, little brother?"

"Yeah," he nodded, wanting to say so much but choosing to wait. "Dean?"

"Hold the chick flick stuff until after we're back in the real world, Sammy," Dean knew what was coming but also knew he wasn't emotionally prepared yet to handle it. "Then, I'll block out a full week and you can hit me with your best shot."

Chuckling, Sam ran his good hand over his eyes to wipe them free of moisture. "Does Morgan remember Boston?" he asked quietly, grabbing for the retreating shoulder. "You left her because I called you. Did you ever want to go back?"

"My first response after Caleb and I got you out of those mountains was to go back for Morgan and just take you both as far away from Dad, from hunting, from our lives as I could…but I didn't," Dean still remembered the pain of that choice. "I still had doubts about why she'd left and I guess a part of me just wasn't sure what Dad would do so dealt with things and just tried to keep you safe until you were old enough to get free of him," he paused before looking back. "What did he do in San Antonio?"

Knowing he'd set himself up for that one, Sam also understood that there were limits to what he could tell his brother or what he was willing to say so finally he shrugged. "Basically, he lured her to Texas with hints that you were in trouble and then had a couple hunters nail her," he felt the heat of his brother's eyes pin him but he only shook his head. "Chuck gave me the papers, Dean. You can read 'em but asking her… after what she'd been through…she's still hurt and needs you. I…I…"

"I know, Sammy, I know," Dean knew that no matter how easy it was to think of giving up, of just saying the hell with it, he couldn't. He couldn't give that fat bald douchebag the satisfaction and because he still had two people who counted on him…who he…loved. "We're gonna be fine. Let's go find Morg and get the hell out of here."

Relieved that his brother's mind seemed to be steady and strong, Sam had just taken a step when a wave of pain hit him and only Dean's quick grab kept him standing. "What the hell?" he gasped. "This isn't my…"

"Morgan," Dean whispered tightly, feeling a stronger sense of what had hit his brother but not liking the way the link still seemed dimmed. "Whatever the hell Zach did to me this time, the drugs or something, the link isn't as strong," he complained, keeping a tight grip on Sam when he felt things begin to go gray and he fought down the urge the pass out because he knew what was happening. "Don't let go and focus on Morgan," he urged.

Breathing past the pain, Sam blinked when he opened his eyes to see a lake and trees. "Dean, this is…"

"Jim's place," his brother recognized the location right away and a small part of him knew that this was something other than a mere vision. "Common location," he murmured.

Looking around quickly as if trying to place something, Dean recalled the evening he'd been swimming in the lake to try to relieve the stress of the day.

It hadn't always been easy to keep up the easy going façade in front of Sam, Bobby or Pastor Jim that everything was good with John. That day was especially tense because he could tell right off that his Dad had doubts about Morgan even though outward appearances made her a simple thirteen-year-old girl who was just a casual friend.

He'd taken a swim to both relieve the stress and to get out of the house while Jim and Bobby talked with John. He'd surprised to find Morgan sitting on the pier but soon discovered that she wasn't at ease either so he'd tried to flirt which he knew usually made her smile. After a while of this, he'd just sat on the pier with her to watch the sun set. It was that night that he'd realized she was so much different than the girls he went to school with.

"Dean!" Sam's sudden shout had him snapping back to attention just in time to twist to avoid being stabbed by the long shiny Angel killing blade held by an Enforcer.

"Shit! Can't I get a break from you assholes even in my head?" Dean growled, grabbing the wrist holding the blade while trying to see where his brother was and swearing even harder the moment he caught Sam going down under the weight of another Angel enforcer. "Sam!"

Reacting on instinct to his brother being threatened, Dean gave a final shove to the one attacking him to try to get to Sam when a strong arm grabbed him around the throat. "Damn…"

"Zachariah says playtime's over, Winchester," the enforcer growled, tightening his grip while feeling the mortal struggle until he slowly began going limp. "Time for you to do what we trained you for in all those long painful hours on the rack. You're going to take this knife and kill Lucifer's vessel before we find that whore and you hand her over to Zachariah personally," he ordered firmly, pressing the blade into a tensing hand. "Don't waste the time fighting, you're ours."

Dean struggled the sudden burning in his mind as he locked eyes with Sam to see the panic building in his brother. "Go to…argh!" he screamed as a hand pressed into the small of his back where he remembered Zachariah branding something and the pain increased until he felt his thoughts blurring even as he fought to hold on.

"Dean…no…" Sam whispered, straining to break the hold of the two Enforcers holding him on the ground when he saw his brother struggle to fight but knew the moment he noticed the tears slide free what was happening. "Dean."

"I'm…sorry," Dean whispered, feeling the blade in his hand as he began falling into darkness even as his body automatically went to obey the Angel's orders to kill. "…Sammy…" the knife moved in his hand as a warmth seemed to come over him just as the blade slashed down toward…

TBC

**Author Note: **_We're getting closer but how will this end? Can Dean fight the Angel's control long enough to free himself fully? Will Zachariah kill Morgan? And where is the future Dean while all this is happening? I know, I'm so evil to cliffhang these things._


	19. Chapter 19

**Mirror Images**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Woods and trees that seemed to get darker and more dense the deeper she went, Morgan Harrison didn't like the cold feelings that were coming into the woods nor did she like the burning pain that was now searing through her body.

Having grown up in these woods, she believed she had the upper hand on Zachariah's enforcers and was hoping if she could get to one section that she could clear the woods and then try to find Sam or even Dean.

Slipping on a tree branch that seemed to appear out of no where, she swore bitterly but felt the swoosh of a blade striking thin air over her head as an Enforcer appeared out of no where behind her. "Bloody buggers are more annoying than demons," she muttered, twisting on the ground to kick out with her right leg while trying to ignore how weak she was getting. "Don't you blokes get tired of this?"

"Your boyfriend's back under our control, little witch," the enforcer replied gruffly, switching hands to slash the blade at the girl and sneered when he heard her cry out when the blade cut her leg. "You're bleeding, you're still hurt so why don't you just save yourself the pain and die? You know Zachariah will have Winchester kill you or maybe he'll let him…"

Side still bleeding from the earlier knife strike along with this new cut and other wounds made her more weak to use the power she normally would but the thought that Dean might've fallen back under the Angel's control and knowing that Sam was alone somewhere in here made her ignore that and react.

Lights flashing, she lifted a hand and struggled not to pass out when the power that shot out to fry the Enforcer made her veins burn again and she felt things go hazy. "No…have to…find Sammy," she told herself, fighting to get up. "Have to…stop Dean."

Trying to sense out where her friends were Morgan encountered a wall that nearly knocked her back down. "I hate bloody angels," she muttered, hearing the sounds of footsteps rushing through the woods towards her and knowing she needed more space. "Damn it."

Breaking into a run, it appeared like the woods suddenly had a mind of their own as they seemed to be growing closer as if to envelope her. "It's not real," she told herself, accepting that but when vivid images of her past began flashing it was harder to fight the panic that she'd always kept hidden.

Morgan knew that Jim Murphy had always been concerned as to how much of her early childhood she recalled. She'd rarely admitted to him or the Nuns in the orphanage that she had complete memory of the horrors she'd endured in that house in upstate New York.

She'd learned early on how to fool people who asked about that time. From the Nuns, to the doctors, to the psychologists who were determined that she would be damaged for the rest of her life. Other than Jim, only Kelly really knew how those days had affected her and still do affect her.

Seeing the images now along with others from her life, including the night in San Antonio when she was sixteen, the first attack by Zachariah's goons on her in New Orleans, Birkstown, West Virginia and more was causing her first real panic attack in years.

"Bloody hell," she gasped, fighting back actual tears as panic grew when the noises behind her grew louder but the trees seemed to go black around her.

Panic, memories, fears and being closed in made the feelings worse so ignoring the now increasing pain the young woman took one look to see for sure where she was and made a dash for what she knew should've been a clearing by the water with a boathouse where Jim had stored some small boats.

So intent on making it to that clearing she was oblivious to anything else which at any other time she'd know that lack of attention was a mistake and the mistake showed itself the moment she hit the clearing.

Out of the near blackness of the forest, the sudden light of the sky bouncing off the crystal blue water blinded her for a moment and so she wasn't expecting the sudden strong arm that reached out from behind the rocky outcropping near her until it was too late.

"Wha…" jerking at the hold, she started to twist only to find herself pulled behind the rocks and pinned by those same strong arms while a hand was firmly clasped over her mouth to prevent the automatic scream.

Instant memories of being grabbed, held, and forced were immediately flashing in her mind when another part of her felt the grip change, the hold loosened enough to not hurt her but still held her and that was when she finally heard the voices.

"She's scared."

"I know that, genius."

Hushed voices seemed to be arguing around her when the sound of the Enforcers breaking the treeline came and her panic grew again until this time the arm encircling her tightened only enough to warn her not to struggle while a soft voice made a whispered soothing sound against her ear to urge silence.

Fighting not to move or make a sound, Morgan closed her eyes to avoid both the stars she was seeing from breathing so hard and to avoid seeing the sneering faces of the Enforcers when they finally found her.

It seemed like an eternity before the grumbling black suited Enforcers decided their prey had alluded them for the moment and left to retrace their steps or continue the search. It was several more minutes after hearing them leave that she allowed herself to even slightly relax and that was when she began paying attention to the her situation.

The arm that was still holding her hadn't loosened but movement from beside her caused her eyes to focus and her breath caught.

"Sshh," Sam's voice was quiet, still not wanting to risk drawing attention back to them as he held a finger to his lips while looking at someone over her shoulder. "They gone?"

"Hopefully," his companion muttered, clearly unhappy by all this as he slowly moved his hand away from Morgan's mouth with a soft warning. "Don't scream. You're…safe."

Blue eyes locked on Sam's uncertainly until she saw his small smile and nod of reassurance then the strength of the arms that still held her began sinking in. She'd felt those arms ever since she was fourteen years old and had allowed him to hold her the first time.

Wary, Morgan turned her head to glance over her shoulder to meet familiar green eyes filled with both concern, longing and fear. Swallowing the first sob that wanted to come, she didn't say or do anything for a long while as their eyes stayed locked.

It wasn't until she felt his grip loosen so he could card shaking fingers back through her hair and down a bruised cheek that she realized that she could feel dimly a link that she thought destroyed and that brought on the emotions she'd refused to show. "Dean?" she whispered hesitantly, wanting to reach out, to touch to be certain he was real but the small part that still remembered the pain inflicted this time in San Antonio hesitated.

"Hey, babe," Dean could feel her fear and guessed what was causing it, letting his fingers brush over her cheek before going to ease back when he stopped to make a choice that he knew would either help or hurt. "I can prove it's me."

Ignoring her bleeding side and other injuries, Morgan's caution was more heightened now since she knew how real these images could seem. Sam seemed real, Sam seemed to trust this but she'd been through too much and was still too panicked to trust that easily. "How?" she challenged, seeing his eyes lighten as if he'd been expecting her to fall for the offer. "Zachariah…they know too much about me that…"

A gentle finger touched her lips to stop her as Dean seemed to be considering something. "I saw Jim earlier and he told me something that he said would prove to you that I was me because he was the only one who would know this," he explained, watching her eyes closely and saw the moment her wary fear turned to pure concern.

"Pastor Jim's been floating around a lot since Morg said she saw him at Bobby's," Sam spoke up from where he'd sat down a little bit away so he could keep an eye on their surroundings but also to give his friend and brother a little space.

"Yeah, he's annoying as a spirit too," Dean shot back but made sure to keep his eyes locked on those of his pale friend while reaching out to lightly touch her face like he used to. "Jim agreed that you're more suspicious than I am and that after all this went down you might not trust me too fast so he told me something to tell you."

Shivering slightly under the weight of both shock and drugs, Morgan chewed on her bottom lip before taking a chance. "What?" she asked quietly, stilling as Dean leaned in closer.

"You told me two things actually," he began softly, feeling her hand that had gone instinctively to his chest as if to push him back…much like she would when he got too close when Sam was around. "He told me your name for one which I think should worry me for all the obvious reasons and…he told me how he met you."

Ready to toss out the usual joking line that he'd already known her name, Morgan froze at the last part and her eyes instantly shot to his, catching the knowledge there and the slight twitch in that one jaw muscle that told her that Dean knew the truth.

Immediate panic set in as it always did at the thought of either of her friends learning about that part of her past, Morgan began to tense when she felt a gentle hand stroke down her arm and watched as he took her hand to press it flat against his.

"Jim…wouldn't tell anyone…" she whispered tightly, unable to look away as Dean slowly let some of his exterior wall down to allow her to see the side of him that only she and Sam could ever bring out. "He…you weren't supposed to know…what did he say?"

"Morgan Elizabeth Harrison is your birth name," Dean recited slowly, feeling Sam's gaze had strengthened as he watched them and knew that there was only some of this that he could bring out while his brother was present. "It's the name you use now but it's not the _legal_ one you were given when you were adopted at five," catching her face in his hand, he kept his touch light while he forced that link to allow him to touch her thoughts as he finished the last thing that Jim Murphy had told him. "Murphy's your legal last name and it became that after Jim adopted you. Jim Murphy wasn't just your friend, he wasn't just the man who took you out of that goddamn hellhole that he found you in…he was your _father_."

As Sam's mouth dropped a little, he managed to keep from saying what was on his tongue when he caught how uneasy that declaration had made their friend.

"What did…how much did he tell you?" she asked softly, looking away and feeling the more familiar need to crawl inside herself when she felt his fingers mesh with hers before easing closer so that her next choice would determine what she was willing to trust. "Dean…I never wanted…I'm not…"

"_Jim told me about your foster parents and what they did to you, he told me about the abuse and how they died," _Dean felt her start at the surprising mental link but he knew she'd be more upset if Sam learned too much before they could discuss this. _"Then he told me how he called on favors with people he knew so that after a couple years he adopted you fully. Why didn't you ever tell me…Angel?"_

The link, even weakened as it was, in addition to the way his voice softened on the nickname he'd given her years ago caused the wall to crack again and this time Morgan couldn't bury the sob so when she felt the slight tug on her hand she went willingly into his arms, choosing to deal with the fears and memories once she was back in reality.

"You're you," she whispered, not surprised that he tensed when she did move freely against him since she guessed he had some memories of his recent days and worried it might hurt him so she'd moved to ease back when his arms tightened to hold her fully and she felt his breath on her neck as he whispered something only she could hear causing her to laugh shakily. "No…the Impala's fine…are you?"

Dean wasn't sure how he was since he knew he had injuries and he still had his doubts about how much of his mind was his own after what happened earlier but as he held his friend and met the eyes of his brother he could only shrug and say what he knew. "It's all good, babe," he promised her, tightening his arms when he felt her shaking more then he saw Sam's gaze fix on Morgan's side and knew he needed to get them out of this mindscape. "We're good and we're going home so that you and Sammy can tell me what the hell's going on and where that future me is in all this."

"Sammy's hurt," she whispered, feeling her right arm not wanting to work right but fought that as gentle fingers lifted her face up to meet his gaze.

"You and Sammy are hurt," Dean corrected her, standing easily and bringing Morgan up with him. This allowed him to not only keep her within grabbing distance but it also let him see and feel what she was hiding and it took every ounce of energy not to show his own emotions as he felt the pain she was in and knowing that most of it had been caused by him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, wanting so much to take the pain and fears away that he knew she had but knowing he needed more strength and time for that.

He needed to get them out of his mind in order to finish this but first he needed to find a way to get them out and he knew that meant Morgan had to use power she probably didn't have.

She'd tensed at his whispered apology and at that moment Morgan didn't want to face the events that stood between them so she merely nodded but didn't move away from him as she fought to steady weakening muscles.

"You two want me to go someplace else while you do the stuff that normally got me sent inside for?" Sam asked easily, giving them the time he knew they'd need but also understanding that things weren't safe since even he wasn't sure what the hell had kept him from getting his throat slashed earlier.

Sam could still see his brother falling back under the control of the Angels and knew that he was going to die when it seemed like everything changed at once.

Dean's hand had gripped the knife the Angel had given him while his other had curled in Sam's hair to pull his head up for what was to be a killing stroke and that was the moment that Sam knew something was different because he'd had several fights with his brother over the years and knew what it felt like to have Dean yank on his head.

This grip had been different. It hadn't been rough or cruel but more like a careful hold just for show but it had also allowed Sam to see his brother's eyes and where he'd been expecting to see glassy green again he'd been shocked to see that Dean's eyes had been alert, calm and then came the smallest wink that had often been a sign between them that things were fine and that he'd take care of things…and he had.

Whirling away from Sam, Dean took out the Enforcers holding the younger Winchester in the short time it took the other to realize their puppet had broken his strings. Then it was over and Sam found himself being pulled to his feet even though he could tell his brother didn't have any solid answers to how he'd fought the hold either.

Now Sam knew it was time to get them moving before Zachariah or his goons caught up to them and he knew the best way to do that. "You do know that I knew what you guys were doing, right?"

"College boy is going to find himself dumped in the lake again," Dean shot his brother a look that made Sam smile then he saw Dean give him a slight nod of thanks before he looked down. "You alright to go on or…?"

"Got a choice, hotshot?" Morgan countered, trying to shield how weak she was only to hear her friend offer an opinion to that and felt his arm go around her waist to offer support. "Dean…"

Stepping out from behind the rocks that they'd taken shelter in, Sam wished things would be easy for his brother and Morgan but knew they even when they got back to the real world things would be bad because that was when they'd both have to face what had happened in Texas…before and now.

"Dean, why do I keep hearing barking from a…ugh!" Sam couldn't cover the scream when the unexpected burning struck his lower back and he went down as it seemed like his entire lower body below the waist just went to nothing and he knew what had happened even before he saw them. "Dean! God…run!" he shouted in warning then gagged as a hard punch to his chest took his breath and broke something.

Feeling Morgan tense only seconds before his brother screamed, Dean was moving only to stop dead the second he saw Zachariah and four Enforcers. His eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw Sam hanging limply in the grasp of two of the bastards.

"Sam…" Morgan gasped, fighting pain that she knew was a cross between her own and Sam's when she could see what had been done. "Dean…he…they broke his back and punctured a lung," she spoke quietly but hurriedly as she saw how the younger man was breathing but still straining not to show fear.

"Hello, Dean," Zachariah greeted casually as if he were greeting an old friend while he stood in between Dean and Sam. "You three have certainly made this little adventure harder than it needed to be," he stated while shaking his head sadly. "I mean, their deaths could have been a lot less painful than they will be now because I will make certain that you hear both your precious brother and this witch scream and beg for you before I let them die…that is unless we come to an understanding."

Memories of that oily voice made Dean freeze for just a moment before he let his anger take over while he could also feel the same warmth touch him as he had before.

Making certain that he kept Morgan safely behind him and that he kept a hand on her just in case she fell, Dean faced the one Angel that he vowed to hurt before he died. "Your plans keep falling apart, asshole," he spat, smirking. "This one going to be any different?"

"I admit that Sam and the girl surprised me by how much they'll willing to risk for you considering all the damage you did to her this time," Zachariah knew he could goad the boy into a rage and therefore force him to make a mistake. "Have you seen her full ordeal, Dean?" he asked calmly, seeing Morgan's face go pale but missed the twitch in Dean's that warned just how close he was to rage. "I could show you in full glaring detail every little thing you inflicted on her or perhaps you'd rather I show you what I learned of her ordeal with your Father in that very room…?"

"It's okay," Dean promised her, feeling the girl's body go more rigid then had to move fast to catch her as if her legs suddenly didn't want to support her any longer. "Damn you, Zachariah. What did you do?"

Making a mock innocent face, the head Angel merely smiled. "I didn't do anything to her my dear boy," he replied then explained. "The varying drugs she's been injected with recently have been wrecking havoc to her system and these are the final effects. Full paralysis which will lead to blindness and slowly she'll fall into a very cruel world of being very alert but unable to communicate…even through that very interesting link that you're still trying to shield from me.

"Sam's injuries, on the other hand, are my doing directly and he will be dead if you and I don't come to that agreement soon," he commented calmly, walking over to jerk Sam's head up viciously before snapping his fingers to cause the younger hunter to convulse violently in the Enforcer's grasp. "How much do you want Sam to live, Dean?"

Swearing violently while feeling Morgan struggle to get to her knees, Dean saw her nod that she was fine even though he read through that lie for what it was but quickly stood to face the gloating Angel. "You want me to say yes to save them," he snapped, hating this but the smirk he saw immediately warned him of trouble.

"No, because I much prefer this fight of wills you and I have going on over that little choice," Zachariah replied, stepping away from Sam to glance past Dean at Morgan before smiling. "I'll let you leave this mind drama…I'll even give you a chance to heal from what I had done to you…but you have to make a choice first," he began calmly, smiling when he saw the way Dean's eyes narrowed. "You can only save one of them so you get to flip a coin as you mortals like to say. Who do you save? You brother or the girl you claim that you love even though you won't say it out loud to even yourself?"

"You son of a bitch…" Dean gritted, taking a step as if to lunge only to have an Enforcer slam a hard fist into Sam's already broken chest and eliciting a ragged cry of pain that tore right into his heart. "Sammy…"

Nauseous and unable to move or breathe right, Sam struggled to just lift his head but forced himself to in order to lock eyes with his brother. "Go…take her…De'n," he managed to gasp out before another blow took his breath and he heard Dean shout for him.

"Let Sam go, Zachariah!" Morgan felt the boy's pain and knew what he wanted Dean to do but she wasn't going to allow her friend to be backed into making that painful choice of choosing between them. "You want me dead? Fine, but let Sam and Dean go…Dean!" she snapped when a firm arm nudged her back. "You can't choose. You can't let Sam be hurt and…"

"It is a painful choice, isn't it?" Zachariah reflected, watching Dean's face and didn't miss the strain showing on it. "Of course, I can help you make it. My Enforcer clearly didn't have enough strength to enforce either the drugs we gave you or the command option but…I do."

Already tense with knowing the risks to both his brother and Morgan, Dean felt his body go rigid as once again memories of that damn torture room came rushing at him but this time when he felt his hand warm he found it easier to push them back.

He also didn't feel the burning pain in his mind as he had before which gave him hope or at least an edge… if he could figure out a way to even the odds a bit more.

"Let Sam and Morgan go and I'll…" Dean knew the Angel wouldn't buy that line again since he'd used it once before and he could feel Morgan's fingers digging weakly into his arm. "I won't choose between them. You want me for Michael then you'll let them go."

"Dean, no," Morgan hissed at him, panic showing as she struggled to get past him only to have Dean hold her back. "Please…choose Sammy and get out. I…want you both safe…"

Taking a huge risk, Dean left his back opened for attack by the duplicitous Angel when he turned to look down at the young British woman fully. He recognized her pain and worry but knew that most of it now was for Sam and him, not for herself.

"You're smarter than this, Angel," he told her quietly, glancing over his shoulder to see that Sam's breathing was more labored and Zachariah's smirk was still strong but for once, despite the emotions warring deep inside, Dean was thinking rationally and understood what was happening. "No matter what I choose, you and Sam will still be hurt because even if they let you survive this…we both know what would happen eventually and if you're hurt…"

"No, I won't let this come again you and Sam," Morgan refused, recalling the pain she'd seen in the alternate 'Dean's' eyes when he spoke of his life. "Dean, it's my choice to save…"

"You've made that same damn choice how many times, Morgan?" Dean countered, feeling her tense when he placed his hands on her shoulders so he gentled them despite the urge to shake her. "How many times have you been hurt protecting us, shielding us?"

"More times than I think you'd like knowing about," Zachariah replied, clucking his tongue. "You make the choice or I will, Dean," then he snapped his fingers as if discovering a good idea. "Or better yet, how about if you remember just who owns your ass and you kill them both?"

Morgan's gaze shot to the sneering Angel just as he snapped his fingers again and she felt her friend jerk "No, you can fight this," she told him, hearing an urgent yipping coming closer but chose to ignore that in favor of trying to keep Dean's mind from reverting.

Hearing the fat bald arrogant Angel bragging and feeling the pain increase but only barely until he looked down at the burning in his hand to see a tiny Angel medallion in his palm that seemed to be glowing and Dean quickly understood that it was this piece of mysterious jewelry that was keeping him from falling back into darkness.

That was also when he heard the more than slightly annoyed voice in his head. '_Get your ass ready to move_," it growled.

Unsure what to expect or when, Dean did know that he needed to get to Sam and that would mean through several pissed off Angels with nothing but a handgun since he'd tossed the blade earlier. "I'll give you the opening, get to Sam," he whispered in Morgan's ear after pulling her closer to him as if he'd been pulled back under their control. "Trust me," he saw her eyes were wide and wary but caught her nod. "Go!"

Whirling, he pulled the Colt from under his jacket to fire it to at least distract in order to give Morgan time to get to Sam when he saw Zachariah's enraged face and knew this wasn't going to work. "Doesn't look like your drugs are working, douchebag. Got Plan…Z times infinity?"

"I will make you watch while I rip your whore's heart out like I did to the one that belonged to that dismal failure of an alternate you," the Angel roared, furious at this act of disobedience. "I will make you suffer ten times more than I did to that fool and while I might not be able to kill Lucifer's vessel I can make you witness what I allow my men to do to her…over and over…"

"Not happening," Dean gritted, refusing to see anything else happen to Sam or Morgan while he was still breathing but found himself hurled back against the rocks and pinned, unable to move when he saw the Enforcers drop a near lifeless Sam to grab Morgan. "Leave 'em alone, Zachariah! Arrgh!"

He felt a bone break in his leg just as a still raw cut on his chest began to bleed again. "Morg…damn…" gasping as pain once again intensified, his fist closed around the Angel medallion when he swore he felt something else in his hands. Then he was falling forward as the grip unexpectedly ceased and he had to force his eyes to focus on things even he wasn't sure he should believe.

"Get…" Morgan had tried to avoid the first Enforcer's grasp but swore when her leg collapsed at the last minute and the mere touch of an Angel was enough to bring back pain and memories that distracted her too much.

"I will see you scream for him," Zachariah told her, considering what to inflict on her as he reached to grab a handful of hair only to have the Enforcer holding her scream in agony as a shot sounded from somewhere. "What?"

Falling to the ground once the Enforcer seemed to vanish with the gunshot, Morgan's instinctive move was to get to Sam who was closest even as several tiny little furballs with glowing red eyes seemed to dart from the trees to attack the legs of the other Enforcers.

While tiny little Hell Yorkies couldn't destroy an Angel, the next four shots that struck each one did and soon it only left Zachariah who was turning in a circle as if trying to decide who or what was causing this.

"This trick won't save you or the Winchesters, witch!" he snapped, taking a step to grab her while summoning two more Enforcers the sound he heard next stopped him in midstep.

"That trick might not, but how about this one, Zach?"

A shot sounded and Zachariah dropped his bulk to the beach while clinging to his leg where a glowing white wound was showing but where his Enforcers vanished after a shot like that he was able to withstand the wound.

"Guns don't hurt Angels!" he roared, furious at this trick or whatever it was until he looked up into the barrel of the weapon that he believed destroyed in another time and place. "You…?"

"Yeah, me," 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 nodded as he kept the pistol aimed while pulling something from under his jacket and giving it a soft underhanded toss back behind. "Dean, catch and deal with the rest."

Morgan's Enochian engraved knife landed perfectly in Dean's hand just as another Enforcer appeared out of the woods. "What're you doing here?" he demanded, ignoring the pain he was in to shift past the first knife strike and sinking the knife deep into the Angel's chest to send it down with a scream.

"To fix what I helped to cause, kid," 'Dean' returned, hard green eyes not leaving the senior Angel's. "You really think I'd just sit this one out when he tried to block me from coming in to help them?" he smirked. "Guess you forgot that I'd just take that as a challenge to screw you over."

"You stupid, in-bred mud monkey!" Zachariah shouted up, refusing to accept that such a well laid plan was falling apart because of these mortals. "I brought you back! I gave you a chance to fix it all! You could've had what you wanted most and you threw it away!" he ranted. "I'll not only see you dead again but I'll force you to watch your wife die in front of you and this time I'll see it all destroyed! Wife, friends, that thing she gave…"

Another shot to the same leg came as 'Dean's' eyes narrowed while he tried to keep track of what the kids were doing and didn't like what he noticed. "You killed my wife, Zachariah. You murdered her and let me believe that my brother had done it," he spoke quietly, voice tight with emotions he thought he'd buried long ago. "I fell for what you planned there and here. I let you convince me that if I came back to this time, if I killed Sam here that my time wouldn't happen but you knew that it wouldn't matter. You just wanted Sam out of the way so you'd have a clear shot at Dean.

"I was nearly convinced that I could have my life back," he shook his head wryly, glancing up to see that while Dean was clearly in pain he was holding his own against the last Enforcer while Morgan had gotten to Sam but he could tell by the tightness in her face that the younger boy wasn't doing good. He just chose to overlook the litter of what he swore was Hellhounds in the form of Yorkies. "I almost bought that I'd wake up back in my own time with my wife and son…maybe find a way to save my own pesky little brother but then it hit me…that was never in the cards."

"You…were always so easy to manipulate," Zachariah sneered, feeling his wounds closing so he was confident that he could regain the upper hand. "That one time wasn't the first time that girl you married messed up my plans for you," he replied. "Still, it all worked out in the end…at least it would have if you'd've just used the right drug here."

"I would not hurt her," the older version of Dean snarled, finger moving to touch the trigger again when the sudden raised eyebrow made him falter. "What…what the hell did you do?"

"Oh, it isn't what I did, 'Dean'," Zachariah smiled while he slid a hand unnoticed toward his jacket. "It's more like what you did…before your precious brother arrived that day when they pulled you out of that room I had you in," he could see the older version of his arch nemesis was thinking hard about that time and not liking what he was suddenly very clearly remembering. "Your 'wife' made certain you didn't recall that short amount of time before 'Sam' arrived. She made certain you didn't recall the very bloody and physical fight you and she had since you were hyped on my drugs and the images and while you didn't do what I made this boy do, you still injured her. Injured her enough that it cost you both something very special but then she never told you that your son wasn't the first of your children that she'd carried…did she, 'Dean'?"

Muscles twitching as he fought to ignore the words, the gloating tone and also the images that it brought back, 'Dean' suddenly understood the things that both his brother and Bobby had spoken of in hushed tones when they didn't know he'd been listening and why 'Morgan' had been unable to meet his eyes fully for so long.

"You…son of a bitch," he growled, rage making him forget the one thing he'd sworn never to forget again. Never lose your concentration with an Angel.

"You should've done what I told you to," Zachariah's hand moved quickly to stab his knife, catching the other 'Dean' in the shoulder which forced him to drop the one other weapon that could hurt an Angel. "Now, I'll send you back to that ruined time just like I found you."

Clutching his arm, 'Dean' managed to avoid another blow but only barely just as a weak blast of energy came between him and the Angel while the real Dean finished the last Enforcer. "Go ahead but you won't ruin their lives like you did mine."

"I already have," Zachariah sneered. "Dean will say yes to Michael and Michael will make certain both the girl and Lucifer's vessel burn before she can stop their destinies," snapping his fingers, he was back on his feet and had his hand at the alternate 'Dean's' throat. "Pity you won't see that since I'm about to rebreak your neck."

"Dean!" Morgan shouted, both to gain her friend's attention and out of alarm for what she'd just noticed happening to the other man.

Knowing she couldn't use another blast of energy since it was taking what she had left to keep Sam alive for the moment, her panic was increasing until a small furry body bumped against her hand and she considered the odds. "What the hell. Okay, you fluffy little demon dogs…sic the nasty bald Angel," she ordered, pointing while adding. "Don't bite him though, he might give you rabies!"

Swinging the knife into the last Enforcer's throat, Dean was already turning to see what was happening when he caught sight of Zachariah with his hand around his future self's throat, then blinked when the six little Hell Yorkies began attacking the Angel. "Guess they come in handy for something," he muttered, then heard Morgan yell for him and knew by the panic in her voice that things were worse. "Sammy."

Trying to split her attention three ways wasn't working and Morgan was about to risk it all by just using what energy she had left to try to blast the Angel out of the way so she could figure out a way to get them home when Sam's head suddenly jerked and she saw the bloody foam on his mouth. "No…Dean!"

"Sammy!" skidding to a halt beside his brother, Dean took one look and knew things were bad. He'd known Sam was already still fighting wounds and leftover effects from the bodyswapping deal and he knew the kid was hurt from all this crap so the extra pressure of this attack had finally made something crash. "_Sonuvabitch_!" he snarled, being careful when he grabbed Sam's head to hold it still. "Sammy! Hang on, you hear me?"

Hearing the panic in his younger self's tone made 'Dean' look over while he gripped the hand that was at his throat to twist it but knew it was only the intervention of the motley crew of hell dogs that caused Zachariah to break his attention but not his one sided goal.

"Dean! I order you to finish what you started in that hovel in Texas!" he screamed, outraged at the pain these small Hell creatures were inflicting on him. "Kill them!"

"Damn it!" 'Dean' groaned, not considering that the kid could still be influenced when a sudden flash of light blasted Zachariah away from him while he found himself zapped closer to this time's own version of himself when a voice that never failed to make his skin crawl was heard.

"Zach, Zach, Zach, when will you learn that every time you scheme it will usually blow up in your fat face?"

If he felt better and wasn't close to panic, Dean Winchester probably would have laughed at the stupidity of this moment. Being rescued by some pint sized Hell Yorkies was one thing, having some demented and deluded future version of himself show up to hurt what was his was something else but to have Lucifer in his current vessel of Nick show up in what he still thought was his own mindscape was a bit too much.

"Lucifer," Zachariah blinked, not expecting this intervention and knowing he didn't have the power to handle this. "I assure you that I have this under control and that I was planning on delivering your vessel…"

A sudden invisible hand to the throat cut him off as Lucifer shook his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked around slowly as if taking everything in at once. "You always were a power hungry Angel but I think this is a bit extreme even for you," he commented in his normal quiet voice, looking directly at Zachariah. "Playing two timelines against one another? Correcting past mistakes with one version of Dean on another? Trying to take out the Mistress of Shadow and Light all the while knowing that our nephews can wipe you out if you piss Ethan off enough?" he chuckled for a moment. "You'd be lucky if I just burned you from existence now for touching what will be mine but…" he smiled in a way that made both Dean's frown.

"I have Michael's vessel under my thumb," Zachariah sputtered, still confident of that when he felt his rage burn at the laugh he heard.

"Try that again, asshole," Dean called, keeping a hand on Sam while missing the soft glow of Morgan's hand that she'd placed under the younger Winchester's neck. "You did your best, you hurt me and yeah, I'll have a helluva time regaining the trust you cost me from both of them but and I stress this…I'm not under anyone's thumb."

Zachariah went to whirl as if to attack only to have Lucifer suddenly in front of him, icy eyes boring into his own while thrusting a finger back to the mortals. "Amelia gave Jack her medallion, Zach. Jack, once the moron thought of it and understood, gave it to Dean back in the real world," he pointed out carefully and smiled when he saw that it was understood. "Between the mortals giving Dean fresh blood to dilute your drugs and the power that Amelia's angel still had…you don't own him or anyone else…speaking of which…"

Turning to gaze at Morgan for a long moment, Lucifer's smile was sad when he met the present Dean's gaze. "Sam's lucky to have you for a brother, Dean. Most brothers wouldn't do what you have for Sam," he remarked, then turned serious. "Fight for them, Dean. Don't lose your way or what you want because of fear, guilt or doubts because even back home…you can still lose her if she gives up too much.

"Alone, no one can beat the big bad Apocalypse just like alone all three of you are vulnerable but together…well, you'll see," Lucifer suddenly winked in a way that reminded Dean way too much of something else but then his words began to sink in.

"What're you talkin'…" he began to ask when the Devil in Nick just snapped his fingers and soon the beach was deserted of everyone but him and a now sweating Zachariah.

"Pity Jack when those hell puppies show back up," he mused then shrugged, eyeing the other Angel calmly and waving his stuttering words away. "Zachariah, I could end you easily but…where would the fun be in that? Back off the Winchesters and the girl, Zach or it won't just be 'just desserts' you'll end up getting in the end," he smiled, snapping his fingers again to make the bald Angel vanish with a yelp before sighing. "Have fun, kids and Jack…work fast.

**Present time in the Panic Room:**

"What in the goddamn hell are these yapping things doing back in my house and how'd the hell they get here?"

Bobby Singer had been growling and throwing threats at both the present mystic and Angel for the past several hours and he'd grown more alarmed when Sam began thrashing and coughing up bloody foam.

Now the grizzled hunter was snarling at the surprising arrival six tiny little Yorkies with glowing red eyes, all of whom seemed determined to crawl into his lap.

"Do I look like the amazing Kreskin to you, old man?" Jack MacShayne was furious. Even with his mother's medallion shielding things and Dean's system being nearly fully purged of the mind altering drugs, he was still having trouble seeing what was happening inside the mindscape with the exception of a few instances…and those he could have done without. "Cas! Do not zap one of those critters or you will have my brothers all over you!" he snapped upon seeing his Angel relative about to do just that.

Having felt Zachariah's involvement, Jack wasn't surprised when Sam began showing new wounds but the moment he felt the boy's back break and his lung fill with fluid he knew things had gone from bad to worse.

Swearing when every time he healed Sam the wounds reappeared, he was vowing to burn someone when he felt the bone break in Dean's leg but at least that he could heal. Already splitting his power too far, he could only hope that the alternate 'Dean' survived the bleeding shoulder wound until he could get to that but then his attention was drawn to the arrival of the Hell Yorkies…six little hell creatures that he was positive he dumped on Ethan…except for the one their little brother attached himself to.

"I swear if this is Ethan's big plan than I'm making his wife a damn widow!" he growled, hissing as something surged up the hand that he'd just laid on Sam. "What the hell?"

"Jack, why is she glowing like that?" Castiel asked curiously, having knelt beside the other 'Dean' in case he needed to act fast.

Trying to pay attention to the people he needed to help while also trying to collect the Hell Yorkies who now seemed to be happily running around the Panic Room and basement, it took Jack a couple seconds to hone in on the question. The moment he did, he was immediately whirling to look and then his harsh curses slipped into a language dead since Moses.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled, going to grab for Morgan's arm only to jerk back when it appeared as if the thin glow surrounding the young woman shot out to keep him away. "Sam must've been hurt in the mindscape and she's trying to heal him…but…"

"But what, idjit?" Bobby demanded, wincing as something crashed out in the basement and a dog scampered back under his chair. "She's healed the boys before so…"

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jack knew he needed to be careful in explaining this. "When the boss healed Dean that summer, she was younger and had nearly full power. The other times that she'd gotten involved with them, including a few months ago in Oregon she had power but this time…this time she's no where near at full strength, she's still seriously hurt herself and she's lacking that link with Dean that can balance everything out.

"To heal Sam this time since Zachariah pulled out all the stops it could take everything Morgan has and she won't pull back until he's healed…even if doing that kills her," he finished, again going to touch her but this time he found himself slammed across the Panic Room. "Damn it!"

"She's…not going to let us touch her," the older, more harsh 'Dean Winchester' from 2014 remarked with a groan as he sat up while putting a hand to his bleeding shoulder. "Zachariah broke Sam's back and punctured a lung in order to force your Dean to choose between Sam and Morgan then things went crazy. I think she started to heal him in there and she's still fighting for Sam."

Bobby wasn't certain if he wanted to curse or cry since he was pretty sure between the three of them he was going to be driven to drink himself to an early grave. "We need to get her awake then," he snapped, noticing that Dean's face was tensing while his hands were fisting around the things he was holding.

"I can't touch her, " Jack groused, picking himself up with a muttered curse. "I'm betting even odds that she won't let future 'Dean', you or Castiel touch her either."

"Mmmmh," Sam groaned as his mind began coming back to this reality only to be deluged with pain and the moment he moved is the first sign of strain Morgan showed as a thin line of blood began to flow from the corner of her mouth.

"Dean," the other 'Dean' moved over to where Dean was still unconscious even though he could tell by the way the younger man's face was shifting that he was either feeling the strain or he knew something was wrong. "Wake up, kid. You got work to do or else all this crap is still going to destroy what you've worked so long to save."

Bobby noticed that Dean still hand a firm grasp on Morgan's hand which he hoped would allow the kid the access that they couldn't have. "Dean! Snap outta it before a slap you upside your head so hard it'll spin!" he snapped sternly, shrugging at the incredulous looks he was getting. "What? I watched these two grow up. I know how to talk to a Winchester to get him to respond."

"…oooh, God. Indoor voice, Bobby," the older Winchester groaned, going to throw an arm over his throbbing head when a firm, calloused hand gripped it and held it still. "You…seriously don't want to do that."

"Wake up and pay attention," 'Dean' ordered in the same stern tone he'd used back in his own time the first time he'd met this younger man. "Sam's hurt but you know that because you saw it happen. You and Morgan still have wounds from recently but she'd trying to heal Sam by herself and she's fading fast.

"I won't be able to touch her, the mystic of odd can't get close to her because she knows we'll stop her," he tightened his grip while knowing what the next move would be so he held the other wrist down that was still holding Sam's tensing fingers. "Dean, she's dying."

Several sets of eyes snapped over at that comment because Bobby hadn't considered that until he finally understood just how weak the girl had become and how badly injured Sam was.

Cloudy, tired green eyes finally opened to stare up into nearly identical eyes and bitter memories of seeing how cold this man had been with his own people mixed with the last time he spoke on a phone with Morgan and had heard how frightened and sick she'd sounded after this man had used her to lure Sam into a trap. "I…will hurt you for…damn this hurts," he hissed, straining to free his arms since being held down brought back being strapped to that damn rack then the edge of the pain dawned on him and his attention was drawn beside him.

Despite feeling like crap, Dean quickly realized that what he was feeling wasn't all his pain but the strain Morgan was feeling from pushing far past her current range as she struggled to knit Sam back together while also trying to heal his own more serious injuries since as he watched, the bleeding slash on his side was slowly closing.

"_Sonuvabitch_," he muttered, shaking his head slowly to clear it before carefully releasing Sam's hand but pressed the tiny Angel medallion into it as he struggled to make his stiff, sore body turn. "Morgan. Okay, let go," he jerked his pinned wrist and only after a brief struggle of wills did he feel the other man ease back.

"Dean, your mind and body has been through an incredible ordeal," Castiel brought up from where he'd just been knocked over by two of the playful Hell Yorkies. "You should rest."

"I'll rest when I'm dead, Cas," Dean countered, nearly wishing he was considering that every ounce of him seemed to hurt and was covered in some for of injury but right then he knew that he needed to overlook those in order to concentrate next to him.

The young hunter was just about to reach out for his friend only to have Sam suddenly scream as fire like agony shot through his healing back, nerves and muscles working again but the moment the boy moved, Morgan's power seemed to glow brighter as she fought to heal and calm but was losing the fight.

"Sammy, stay still!" Dean hoped some part of his brother could hear him while he tightened his grip when he felt Morgan try to pull her fingers free of his hand in order to touch Sam with both hands. "Uh-huh, Angel. Open your eyes, Morgan. Open your eyes and look at me…please."

Memories and pain were hitting her as she struggled to push past the shadows that she was seeing as her own encounter with the Angel's vicious drugs were finally showing their more serious effects, Morgan's basic instinct was to protect and shield and that meant to heal Sam and Dean as best she could before she slipped under.

The fear of the effects that Zachariah bragged would happen was there but Morgan struggled not to show that fear until she was alone. Now, she knew she needed to concentrate on…

"Damn it, Morgan," Dean's voice still sounded gruff and hoarse from screaming so much but there was also concern that verged on panic as he fought to bring his friend's mind back to reality fully while knowing, from all that he had seen and heard in that mindscape, what she was doing. "You can't heal Sam by yourself."

"She's not letting him help," Bobby spoke quietly to Jack who could only nod. "Dean…be careful. She's gonna be…"

"Scared of me?" Dean shot back bitterly, well aware that he and Morgan had serious issues this time that would need to be resolved before either of them could move on. "Yeah, figured that out even before I learned that it hadn't been a nightmare of me using a goddamn torch on my…"

'Dean' was trying to stop his own bleeding wound when he smirked. "Still won't call her that, will you?" he asked easily, shaking his head. "Kid, who're you protecting? Her or yourself because I can tell you after some of the things I've seen her do for you this time I can say that she lo…"

"Shut up," Dean gritted, needing to face that part of his life alone and not wanting to have it thrown up to him by some hard as nails cold blood future version of himself. "From what I saw of you, you've got no right to lecture me on not telling Morgan that I…" he missed the dark flash of emotion in the other's eyes as he went back to focusing on his friend who had just begun to shake violently and the others in the room knew what that could signal.

"If she seizes again, there ain't no way she'll come out of it," Bobby growled, locking eyes with the younger man. "You've got one shot at this, boy. Take it or…"

Dean's memories of his recent days were still livid so he knew where every bruise, burn, cut, slash, mark and more was on Morgan's body and he knew that he had caused most of them except for the damn mark that Zachariah had burned on her.

Still gripping her hand, he noticed the chain of the silver heart necklace that he had given her that summer in the mountains of Nevada. He briefly saw images of Zachariah's Enforcer holding both his amulet and the necklace in front of him as if teasing of what he'd lost and would continue to lose.

"No, I wouldn't choose there and I'm not choosing here," he muttered, putting his own pain and fear aside Dean had a hunch he knew what was needed even without looking at his older self. "I'm not letting that bastard win."

Making a swift choice and a silent apology, he quickly moved to pull Morgan up and into his arms fully, feeling her go as rigid as she had in the dreamscape when he'd first pulled her behind the rocks but this time he didn't release or loosen his grip until he was certain she knew who he was and so he was ready when she began to struggle.

"No…don't…touch…" straining against the arms that held her gently yet firmly, Morgan strained to reach Sam fully as if afraid any break in contact would hurt the younger man. "…Sammy, be…okay," she whispered tightly, blue eyes opening slowly but seemed hazy and unclear. "Dean!"

Her cry was panicked, not fearful and slowly Dean brought her fully against his chest as he had once before when they'd been younger to soothe her nightmares. Now, he began to rock and whisper while trying to reconnect a link that he knew was still there but weakened due to both their wounds and guilt.

"Angel, it's me…it's Dean," he whispered, feeling his heart tighten with the way she kept trying to reach of his brother. "Sammy's going to be fine but you have to let me help you. You can't heal him by yourself this time. You need to let me in or else you'll die doing this or…_ex-cuse_ me?" he stopped in mid-sentence at one glaring thought he picked up and his eyes changed, narrowing dangerously in the same way they had the night in Boston and when Sam told him about San Antonio.

"Yeah, this won't be pretty," the other 'Dean' decided, wincing as Jack touched his arm to heal but knew it wouldn't do much good at this point.

Dean had known that his friend had done more for him and Sam than he'd originally believed even though he still didn't have the full details. He'd seen some interesting things while inside his own mind that gave him some clues but he also understood that his brother and Morgan had probably seen more than a few things that he hadn't wanted anyone to know about.

He knew that it would take a lot to earn back the trust that both had lost in him this time and he was prepared to face things that he'd hoped he never would to do that but the moment he caught the girl's thoughts and heard her quiet sob, his temper spiked.

"Nothing that ever happened to me or Sam was ever your fault. You've don't everything that you could for him and for me," he replied firmly, lifting her face up with his free hand and lightly running it over her eyes until he saw them seem to clear a little. "Angel…I know you're scared and I know you want to help Sammy but you need to let me help you," seeing Sam's eyes trying to open gave Dean hope but then he noticed how cold her hands were and he swore.

Shifting so that he could still hold her close to him but also lay a hand over the one she had linked with Sam, Dean struggled not to lose control when he felt her breath on his neck slow. "Morgan, don't you do this me," he urged, closing his eyes briefly to both get rid of the stinging moisture and to avoid seeing the injuries on his friend's pale face, neck and arms. "I know what I did and I wish I could say that 'sorry' would cover it but I know you and Sam are going to be hurt for a long time because of what I did. I didn't protect Sam and I didn't protect you either now or before so if anyone should be guilty of anything then it's me.

"You've doted on my little brother since the first night we met. You made him feel safe and normal when he barely felt that with anyone else and…you let me be myself and you ignored the me that everyone else sees," Dean's smile was shaky as he leaned down to brush a featherlike kiss over her lips while tightening his grip over the hand she had linked with Sam, noticing a single tear fall. "I know it probably hurt when I blocked the link but it was all I could do to keep you and Sam safe from them, Morg. Please, let me in. Let me help you heal Sammy and then you can beat the crap outta me or leave and I will never bother you again…if you can't trust me or if you don't feel anything after this," he finished grimly, adding in a whisper he hoped she would hear. "You, my Angel, are still what I dream of when I dream of normal."

Standing to one side while Bobby hurled soft curses at Jack and Castiel, 'Dean' watched his younger self struggle to keep buried what he knew the kid would unleash the first moment he could get to himself. He could recall a similar moment between him and his own wife after the events in Tennessee when he had willingly and openly begged her not to give up on either herself or him.

Knowing his presence in this time was also affecting the link the two shared and knowing his time was about up, he took a shaky breath while rolling something between the fingers of his good hand and for just a moment long he allowed himself to feel a link that he had never really allowed himself to admit how much losing it had hurt him.

Then with a sad smile, he offered a silent goodbye since he knew what needed to happen soon and wouldn't hurt Morgan by allowing her to be part of it and slowly he began rebuilding the blocks that would shield him from the link, which he hoped would aid Dean in strengthening the one he had in this time.

Now oblivious to the others in the room or the yipping little Hell Yorkies, Dean was only aware of what he had closest to him. Feeling fingers grip his other wrist had him look down into too large hazel eyes as Sam slowly came around but something told the younger hunter that something was wrong yet.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean forced a smile that he prayed didn't show how close to breaking he was as he glanced back to see that Morgan's face seemed still, no longer strained as it had been. "Sammy's gonna be okay, Angel," he whispered, not bothering to care that his eyes were burning while he finally relaxed his hold on her one hand in order to curl it around her necklace and pressing it over his heart. "It's gonna be good…it's all gonna be good now…just open your eyes, babe. Just please don't…"

Sam's head was still foggy as to what had happened at the end but he did know what was happening now as he slowly sat up while checking to be sure everything moved the way it should. He'd known when he'd started to wake up and he heard the breaks in his normally steady brother's voice that something bad was happening.

As he watched Dean hold Morgan, he noticed the bluish tinge to her lips and how pale she seemed. "She's scared, Dean," he spoke softly, reaching up to lay a hand on his brother's arm and felt it shaking. "_Talk_ to her."

"I have been…" suddenly catching Sam's eyes to see the look he was sending, Dean understood what his sometimes too smart for his own good baby brother was saying. He had been talking to Morgan. He just hadn't been talking the right way or saying the right things.

Right then, she'd be frightened of the memories, the images, the pain that she'd been put through this time. She'd heard his voice both from the alternate 'Dean' and while the Angels were controlling him so hearing it probably wasn't doing anything but making her more frightened.

Sam stressing this made him want to smack himself because between them, to avoid Sam or Bobby or Jim knowing what was being said, a special form of sign language had been created since she'd been wary of using the mental link too much.

"Angel…" carefully, Dean took Morgan's hand and gently touched her palm with his fingers to lightly move them in a pattern that he hoped she'd feel and recognize. Hesitating briefly on finishing the comment he'd been signing, his fingers shook on the last word when he stilled after feeling a weak touch of a finger on his chest. "Huh, you back with us, babe?" he asked lightly, seeing Sam nod that he'd seen the touch as well.

A tense silence came over the room as both Winchesters intently waited until finally a soft breath was heard as Morgan's eyelashes fluttered a couple times before they slowly opened to stare up at Dean. Blinking to clear them, she seemed unsure until she then glanced at his fingers that were still signing something until her fingers closed over his, stilling them. "… … home…you…Sam…?"

"Yeah, Morg. We're home, we're back at Bobby's," Dean assured her then frowned as something with a pink bow run in a circle around them until a shout came from Bobby. "Why there are Hell Yorkies really here I'm not sure but…we're home and…you and Sam are gonna be fine," he promised, not trying to pull his hand free as it seemed to him that she wanted that connection.

Tired, sore, numb and frightened, Morgan let her eyes move between the brothers as if gauging them before finally settling on Dean fully. "…you…" gasping in pain as she moved restlessly but grabbed for him before he could let her go. "You…good? Dean…?"

"Yeah, Angel…I'm…good," he heard a soft snort and shot Sam a dark look that promised later retaliation but then forced a smile that he hoped showed more confidence in that line than he really felt. "I have what I need so…it's all good."

Eyes locking for a long moment, Morgan knew inside her friend was lying through his teeth since she could see his pain and how uneasy he was right then but she ignored it in favor covering her own fears and memories of San Antonio to reach for the most tangible thing she had right then. "Dean…I…"

"C'mere," he heard his voice drop to the softer tone he only used with her but ignored it as he gave her the time to understand what he was offering, then was only slightly shocked when he felt her reach for him and he was careful when he locked one arm around his friend to hold her but used his other to latch on to his retreating brother. "Sam…"

Knowing better than most that Dean and Morgan had a long way to go before they'd be fully at ease with one another again, Sam wanted to give them some time so he figured he'd try to pull the other 'Dean' aside to see how this would play out or find out about those scampering little furballs when he felt his arm being grabbed and held. "Yeah?" he glanced back to meet Dean's eyes and was surprised to see what he did since it was so rare for Sam to see honest emotion in his brother unless they were alone. "Dean?"

"If you've scratched my car, little brother…I will so end you," he declared then coughed before giving a slight tug to pull a startled Sam close for a one armed hug that he held only after he felt it returned. "The car is back, right, Sammy?"

Giving a watery laugh, Sam nodded while returning this rare gesture of his brother and didn't go to break it when he felt Morgan snuggle closer to Dean while reaching a hand out to clasp his. "Yeah, though Jack did teleport it," he admitted, figuring that he'd toss the mystic into the fray for later abuse and wasn't disappointed when he heard his brother growl lowly.

Recent events were beginning to catch up with all of them but Dean was especially feeling it as pain and shock began settling in and he felt himself getting tired but fought that until he could be sure his brother and Morgan were settled when he noticed that the young woman was still tense as she slowly fell asleep. "Can…can I take her upstairs, Bobby?"

The hesitance in which the young man asked the question made the grizzled hunter frown since he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen this boy so unsure of himself or his actions as he was right then. "Well, I don't think any of ya are gonna get better down here, ya idjit," he growled, rolling his eyes while slapping Castiel on the arm. "Snag those mutts and then help me upstairs while the mystic gets the kids up to the bedroom," he snapped, not bothering to include the time displaced man in that order since he knew that would be a bad plan. "Jack, why are those things in my house?"

"I think they were my brother's brilliant plan," Jack muttered, wondering if he should just teleport when he decided against that plan.

Sam, despite everything that he'd had happen to him recently, was still in the best shape out of the three so he made it a point to stay close to his friend and brother. "C'mon, Dean. Let's go upstairs and lay her down then I'll look at some of those," he urged quietly, not missing the way his brother's grip had tightened on their friend the moment Castiel got too close and Sam knew Dean well enough to know that in this exhausted shape he could be lethal if he felt threatened. "Dude, it's okay. It's over."

"No, it's not over, Sammy," Dean murmured, suddenly too tired to even think of standing but would only give Morgan over to Sam's gentle touch before he let himself be pulled into what he prayed was a simple sleep. "It won't be over…until I make it right with her…and you tell me everything."

"Yep, that'll be fun to see," Jack muttered, reaching to take a careful hold of the older Winchester's arm in order to haul him to his feet for the trip to the second floor. "Kel's bitching about the damages done at the Alamo. He'll kill me if this places sees too much done to it."

Hesitating a second to slowly meet the other set of harder green eyes, Sam finally let out a breath. "You helped me save them…well as safe as they can be considering things so…just give me an hour or so with Dean, let me make sure he and Morgan will be okay then you can do what you want…I'll keep my promise," he stated quietly then left to carry his friend upstairs which left the alternate 'Dean' alone in the Panic Room.

"Damn it," he swore bitterly, staring at the items he had in his hand before slipping them back into the velvet bag that he pocketed while staring hard at the last photo he had of his family. "I tried, Angel. I thought I could fix it all but all I can do is make sure our life doesn't happen to them…no matter who it hurts."

'Dean' closed the photo in his hand and was surprised at the pain in his chest as he slowly made his way upstairs while snagging a runaway Hell Yorkie on the way. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hoping he could do what needed to be done as he took his time to savor still being alive since he knew that when this was over, he wouldn't be but he guessed considering what would soon happen, he deserved that.

TBC

**Author Note: **_Well, we're almost done but do the twists stop here? Who knows since it's still to be decided if this alternate 'Dean' will go through with killing Sam. Will Dean learn of his brother's promise to the other him and be able to step in? Can Dean fully recover what was done to him and now that so many secrets have been revealed, can anyone move forward? Come back to see the final installment of Mirror Images._


	20. Chapter 20

**Mirror Images**

**Author Note:**_ I'll apologize in advance for the length of this last chapter. I hope everyone enjoys it and if I happened to miss any loose ends, let me know and I'll catch those in the next installment of this series, lol._

**Chapter Twenty**

"What the hell did he mean that he saw Lucifer in there?" Bobby Singer was still determined to blast someone full of buckshot and this news wasn't making him happier.

It had been close to three days since the Winchesters and their friend had come out of the mindscape and it was clear that all three still had both inner and outer wounds to contend with.

Dean Winchester and Morgan Harrison were still the ones visibly hurt the most but as Jack MacShayne explained yet again, it would take them overcoming recent problems, doubts, and mistrust to get over their mutual injuries.

Sam, while healed basically, had crashed for the three days out of plain exhaustion and knowing that both brother and friend were safe for the moment.

Waking up with more pains and sore muscles than he'd fallen to sleep with, Sam groaned. Turning over to see that he'd fallen to sleep in the bed that he normally used while at Bobby's, he smirked a little since he knew the grizzled truck cap wearing hunter must have decided who was sleeping where which he knew meant Dean would be pissed when he woke up.

Sitting up slowly, he noticed that his brother was sleeping on his stomach with one hand under his pillow much like he used to do when they were younger. Memories made Sam pause to remember the happier times before he stood to reach for a shirt and then made his own trip down memory lane when his fingers reached unerringly for an old battered hoodie that he hadn't worn in years.

Hearing Bobby yelling from downstairs told him that he'd found out some stuff that Sam only recalled as a blur. He did recall hearing Lucifer at the end of the events in the dreamscape but something just seemed off to him. Though he shrugged it off since he needed to concentrate on his next few moments.

Seeing that the infected burns and cuts on Dean's back still looked raw, Sam hoped that his brother and Morgan could overcome the hell they'd been put through recently so they could heal since he hated to dump more crap on either one but knowing he'd made a promise that he needed to keep.

"Dean…" he whispered, partly glad that his older brother was still sleeping since he knew he could never explain this to him just like he knew that there was no way that Dean would allow him to do what he was about to.

Touching the small golden amulet that he'd given his brother years ago, he ran it between his fingers as he remembered how much this one little thing had meant to both of them. Placing it back on the nightstand, he considered the note in his hand that he'd written before he crashed.

Hating the pain this would cause, he also knew that he needed to explain things as best he could and also say the things that Sam knew he'd never be able to aloud. He just hoped that one day Dean would forgive him for this and everything. "G'bye, Dean," he whispered, leaving everything up in the room since he knew that he wouldn't be needing anything on him except for the one picture he'd taken out of his brother's wallet. "I…love you, big brother. Take care of Morgan and Bobby and…I'm sorry."

Pausing in the door of the room down from theirs that he knew Bobby would give Morgan, Sam leaned in the door to watch his friend as she layed curled on her side much like he'd see her do at the cabin when Dean would hold her.

Morgan still looked pale and he knew her injuries were much more severe and also would be harder to heal since many of hers were internal since getting over being tortured by a man she cared for wouldn't be easy and Sam wished he'd be there for her but could only hope his no chick flick moment brother let his guard down for her…like he had once.

Going over to kneel down next to the bed, Sam let his fingers lightly brush back an unruly strand of hair much like he'd seen her do for him and smiled tightly. "Dean loves you, Morg," he murmured, placing a note next to her hand. "Just give him time but stay with him because he needs you. Thanks for being there for us…even though it got you hurt so much. I guess in some way I always wished that in some way Dean would've taken me away from Dad. That summer I was twelve, I'd wish at night that it would just be you and Dean raising me.

"I loved you too and I hope you forgive me for this," Sam gave a gentle kiss to his friend's cheek and was relieved to at least feel her not as hot as she had been three days earlier. "Bye."

Forcing out a shaking breath, Sam headed down the steps to notice that Bobby was almost to the point where he'd start throwing books at Jack MacShayne who was trying to direct his attention between the irate hunter, the six Hell Yorkies who were all curled around the fireplace, Castiel who was grumbling and the cell phone in his hand.

"Take care of them, Bobby," Sam whispered, slipping out the front door silently to blink in the blinding sun as it seemed to reflect off the brightly shining Impala. "Hey,"

"Hey, kid," the 'Dean' from the future turned from running a nostalgic hand over the car's hood to face Sam fully and didn't miss the pain in the boy's face. "They still sleeping?"

Glancing back automatically to the house, Sam nodded then stepped off the porch as if wanting to put some distance between this man and his family. "Yeah. I'm hoping Dean and Morg stay asleep for awhile longer that way Bobby or Jack can handle the messy stuff."

"Like burning the body?" 'Dean' arched an eyebrow, pulling the collar of his green military jacket up to ward off the fall chill or something that felt like icy fingers slapping his head. "You really think missing that will stop the pain?"

Face tight, Sam bit his lip then shook his head. "No, nothing will stop that," he admitted then added with a shrug. "I'm hoping after he's over being pissed at me that Dean will realize he's better off without me."

"Yeah, I doubt if that'll happen," the other man muttered, seeing a lot of his own little brother in Sam right then because he could recall hearing his own 'Sam' say something similar more than once. "You sure you want to do this, Sam?"

Nearly laughing at that, Sam actually smirked while looking right that the older version of his brother. "I promised that if you helped to save my brother, if you helped me to keep Morgan safe that I'd let you kill me. I was taught that if you made a promise that you had to keep it so I'm…keeping mine," he replied grimly, hoping the other man couldn't see how badly his hands were shaking now. "Just…please don't hurt them."

"I promised that I wouldn't, Sam," 'Dean' murmured, watching the kid for a long time while fingering the weapon he'd pulled from the holster on his thigh. "You know, I hope Dean realizes what a special kid you are and appreciates that. I don't think I understood my brother or appreciated him…until I came back here."

Surprised at how heavy the pistol in his hand felt, 'Dean' glanced up to lock eyes with Sam and wished he didn't see the pain shining in those huge hazel puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, Sam…" he whispered, lifting the weapon slowly as his finger began to brush the trigger. "I am sorry…"

**Upstairs in the bedroom:**

Jerking awake when something like an ice cold chill ran down his neck, Dean Winchester groaned while rolling over to stare at the ceiling of the one room that he knew both he and Sam would always be able to consider home. Sam…

Thinking of his little brother and his injuries had him looking automatically toward the bed farthest from the door, which was always Sam's. Expecting to find him either still sacked out or looking up something on his laptop, Dean frowned when he noticed that not only was the bed empty it was also made as if Sam had been up and moving for a while.

"Sam?" he called then coughed as his throat seemed to dislike the use of his vocal cords. Grumbling about feeling like crap, he grabbed for a glass of water on the nightstand when he caught sight of both his amulet, the tiny Angel medallion he discovered in his hand along with an envelope with his name written in Sam's writing. "Crap. Sammy?"

Glancing toward the open bathroom door, Dean guessed his brother wasn't in there when he noticed that Sam's jacket, demon killing knife, wallet and cell phone were all on the bed which made his warning sense start ringing since he knew that his tech geek brother didn't go anywhere without that phone.

Eyes staring at the letter, he reached for it carefully while sitting up to hiss as stitches on his back and side pulled and he once again strained to avoid thinking too much on those for the moment in favor of seeing what this was about and feeling his blood run cold then hot the moment he began reading…

"'_Hey, Dean. I know when you read this that you'll pissed even before you finish this sentence but…I made a promise that if that other…you helped me save you and keep Morgan safe that I'd let him…kill me and I hope that'll be done before you wake up to read this._

"'_I know you'll be angry and I'm sorry but Dean…at least if I'm dead the Angels should leave you alone and you won't have to worry about dealing with me, my problems, my screw-ups, etc all the time. I know you said that you never hated me, that everything you did was because you felt like you had to but let's face it, Dean…the crap Dad put you through, what he let those guys do to you all because of that summer, you shouldn't have had to cope with that…or me._

"'_Finding out about your time in Hell was one thing but knowing more of what you went through to protect me…God, I will never understand why you didn't walk out on me, on Dad. Dying won't even come close to making up for the pain you've coped with, the crap, the beatings, the lectures, the fears and everything else that you handled…for me._

"'_Seeing what I did in that mindscape, it wasn't all bad but it let me understand you a lot better. Why you did some of what you did and I owe you so many apologies. For always listening to Dad or always taking his side or so it seemed or for trying to keep me in that glass bubble that I resented so much. I guess it was just your way of protecting me both from Dad and from myself. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm sorry you went to Hell for someone who was to ungrateful to see what you'd sacrificed already and I'm sorry that protecting me cost both you and Morgan so much…_

"'_Dean…I doubt if she'll ever tell us…you what all happened to her with Dad or what she's done for us but…in my duffel are the papers Chuck gave me that will explain most if not all but especially about what Dad had done to her in San Antonio. I think that and whatever it is with Jim and of course all of this crap will be what hurts her the most. She loves you, heck you didn't have to go to college to see that but then…I saw that when I was twelve. Chick flick moments aside, Dean…you need to come clean with her. For me, if I could ask you anything as a last wish it would be that you find that little piece of normal that we dreamed of with Morg. She's…still pretty, big brother so just don't shut her out or let her shut you out because I…won't be here to play middleman anymore._

"'_I hope this works out like I think it will and I pray you forgive me. I've looked up to you since even before the fire. You raised me, not Dad. You were my rock growing up and I'm sorry I hurt you when I left for school or at the asylum, or with anything else I've done. I…I love you and I hope you think of me every once in a while. Take care of Bobby, please stay with Morgan and…g'bye, Dean.'"_

Swallowing the sour taste that had formed in his mouth while running a hand over his eyes to wipe away the moisture that had formed, Dean read over the letter once more before crunching it in his fist as his anger stewed then hit core rage. "_Sonuvabitch_,"he growled, grabbing for his bag and the .45 Colt that he knew would be laying on top before heading for the door. "No, ain't no way in Hell this is happening and I am so letting Morgan ground that kid for this one."

Dean's thoughts were one-tracked as he made his way downstairs as quickly as his sore and beat up body would let him go. He'd felt that Morgan was still sleeping which wasn't a surprise but he was going to point out to the hunter, Angel and mystic in the house that letting Sam pull this stunt was not a good plan even as he felt something cold go down his neck and he was just touching the knob when he heard the first shot. "No…"

**Outside at that moment:**

The sound of the pistol discharging sounded like a cannon in Sam's ears but while he expected to feel the burning and searing pain of a bullet entering his body there was nothing. "Huh?" he opened one eye that had closed on instinct to see the time displaced version of his brother standing just as he had been, the weapon slowly lowering. "What…why…?

"Guess I'm not as good a shot as I used to be," 'Dean' shrugged. "I either missed or you got lucky," then his gaze strayed past the confused young man to the house with a smirk. "Hey, I wondered if you'd wake up."

Sam was still trying to understand why he wasn't dead or dying so he didn't immediately pick up on what else was being said until a firm hand gripped the back of his neck and squeezed in a way that he knew was both warning and supportive while the voice he heard had a more familiar tone to it that he'd know anywhere.

Dean Winchester was beyond pissed off.

"Sam, get in the house," Dean ordered in the same no nonsense tone he used when not messing and not wanting the usual fight. "Get back in the house and stay there until I get to you."

"Dean…" Sam began to argue, reaching out to grab for his brother when he started past him but blinked when he was moved physically backwards by just one push. "Please, this is my…"

Pausing only long enough to throw his younger brother a look that he knew well, Dean pointed back to the house. "Go. Back. Inside," he stressed then blew out a breath as if sensing how his brother would take the tone. "Sammy, please."

"But I…I promised…" Sam tried to explain that when a short whistle drew his attention and he caught the small smile the older 'Dean' sent him.

"You kept the promise, kid. Now go help that mystic corral those hell mutts," he urged, adding as an afterthought. "You did good in this, Sam. Don't ever think otherwise and don't think that your lives will automatically mirror mine."

Sam nodded and he seemed to hesitate in leaving these two alone until he saw Dean toss him another look that was a clear command. "I wish you could've had what you were promised," he murmured, going only as far as the porch but didn't go inside in case his brother needed help.

"You know you're not healthy enough to fight me," 'Dean' declared, slipping his weapon away but didn't react when the younger man shifted the Colt he was holding. "Guess I deserve that."

"You bought into that bald blowhard's lies, you came back to my time without caring what it could change, you touched, drugged, and hurt Morgan and you thought I was going to stand back while you killed my brother? Did Zach put you back together right when he resurrected you or did he leave a few screws loose?" Dean demanded, still able to recall the phone call with Morgan after he'd discovered what Sam had done. "I mean, I know how convincing the lies can be and I knew, from what I saw of your time, that you are a cold blooded son of a bitch but I didn't think that you, or me…any version of me would be able to hurt Morgan."

Turning as if to look around the junkyard that he had spent so much time in, the other 'Dean' took his time before he finally met the younger man's eyes. "Dean, you saw my world…you saw what I dealt with but that was only a small portion of my life because you never got to see my life before the Apocalypse, before I lost my brother and…my wife," he stated slowly, seeing the change in the opposite set of eyes. "I've told Morgan and Sam some things about me, my life…the things that happened to me and what changed me but those are my issues. You still have the time and choices to make that will keep those things from happening to you, but it's going to mean breaking a couple of that infamous 'Dean Winchester rules' you live by."

"Zachariah told me how he killed your wife," Dean replied slowly, not missing the dark flash but ignoring it. "I never paid attention when I was in your time that you were wearing a ring. I'm…sorry. Losing her must've been bad."

"You have no idea," 'Dean' smiled tightly, glancing up to see Sam pacing the porch just as Jack MacShayne stepped out. "I'd lost my brother before I lost my wife but on the night she died, I lost everything. Sam, her…our son because I was so dead inside. You don't have to go down that path, Dean," he told him, knowing his time was ending. "I'm sorry that I helped Zachariah to hurt the kids as much as you all were this time but he played on the one thing that I still wished I could have.

"You don't have to let that happen because you still have a shot to have the life with her that I had briefly," 'Dean' took out the velvet bag to spill its contents out into his hand to run a finger over the engagement ring and smaller matching wedding band with its small diamond stone. "I accept that I was fooled and lied to long before I was brought back here but it wasn't until I saw her with Sam, when I saw how much things were different here than they were back in my time."

Something about this alternate man's behavior right then made Dean reconsider shooting him outright at the moment. "Was your time a direct response to this one?" he asked, recalling other things he'd heard.

"No, I don't think," 'Dean' replied with sigh. "Zach needed you to see the worst so he showed you…he just didn't bother to tell you how that worst came to be. Dean, I won't tell you that I was a great guy because I wasn't and I hope that you don't become as cold and hard as I did. You have a little brother who adores you and would do anything for you…even call out Lucifer to make a deal to save you," he shot Sam an arched brow and smiled when the younger man groaned since both knew how Dean would react to that.

About to make a comment the mention of Sam and Lucifer in the same sentence had Dean turning to throw a glare back over his shoulder. "I will want to know what the hell else you got up to while I was gone, Sammy," he called in warning then returned his attention to his other self. "I still owe you a serious beatdown for hurting them."

"Yeah, but you're going to let Jack back there zap my ass back to Hell or wherever time displaced alternate reality sons of bitches go when they're dead…again," 'Dean' countered, seeing the small smirk on the younger man's tired face then made his final choice. "Dean…wait."

Taking a hold of Dean's wrist he carefully, almost gingerly, placed both the smaller rings and the two photos he still cared about in his hand before slowly removing the wedding band he still wore and adding it to the collection.

"Take 'em. I won't need them where I'm going and…I think she'd want you to have them," he told the startled hunter, smiling fully for the first time. "I know how bleak things may look at times but you have what you need to not only beat this crap but also to have the happily ever after, white picket fence, suburban house and kids life that deep down we both have dreamed of.

"The day I married my wife, no matter what I might have said later on, was the best day of my life because I married my best friend and gave my little brother the sister he always wanted," he looked over at Sam one final time before locking green eyes liquid with tears that he knew wouldn't fall with this younger man and knew the moment he finally understood. "You still have the chance to do the same thing. Don't let the crap and the guilt you've carried or the guilt over any of this keep you from telling her how you feel."

"You…your wife…" it hadn't dawned on Dean before until something finally clicked and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Closing the opposite hand around the rings he'd carried with him from the moment he'd taken them from his own wife's limp finger, 'Dean' lightly clasped a hand to the back of this Dean's neck much like he'd seen him do with Sam. "I wish I could say that I'll see my 'Morgan' again but…knowing that you still have that shot with your girl, gives me some hope…and don't yell at Sam too much," he urged, stepping back. "Kid's been through hell, literally and…you'd really better find out what she knows too. Jack! You ending me finally or what?" he called with a forced easiness.

"I've been waiting to do that since the moment I first landed in Massachusetts and found you, dude," Jack countered, walking past Dean to nod back. "Get him inside and check on the boss," he urged, not needing the Winchesters around for this.

Dean hesitated before giving a final clipped nod to the other 'Dean' then walked back to the porch where he found Sam pacing uneasily. "Hey, Sammy," he began shakily, catching the caution in the huge hazel eyes that shot to his. "I think we need to talk."

"Will they be alright?" 'Dean' asked the mystic, surprised that he was actually feeling nervous about this.

Throwing a quick look to see the door just closing, Jack shrugged. "I doubt it but at least I'll know to keep a better eye on them," he admitted, coughing. "You really ready for this?"

"I was dead before, Jack. I think a huge part of me knew that I'd end up dead and alone again…I just wish…well, it would've nice to see them again but that just wasn't in the cards," 'Dean' replied tightly then nodded. "Do it, kid. Send me back to how I was…just watch over them."

Considering the time spheres, odds and angles and hating this, Jack finally had the spell he needed while feeling an added boost as he held his hand out to send the older, more hard 'Dean Winchester' back to whatever remained of 2014.

"Will it work?" he asked without looking over his shoulder, feeling his brother.

"It should but when dealing with alternate times and places it's impossible to tell," Ethan replied, running a hand through his own black hair while looking up at the sky. "He deserved more since it was Zachariah who messed him up so badly."

"I'll just be happy to keep the two Winchesters I have here happy and healthy for awhile," Jack shot back, hearing the barking and happy yipping start again and groaned. "You taking the mutts back home or what?" he asked curiously. "Singer's getting a bit too attached to them so I really want them gone and soon."

Chuckling, Ethan just shrugged. "Maybe later," he conceded. "Stay here while I close some loose ends."

"Including Lucifer getting involved?" Jack muttered, hating this and hating it more the moment he caught the glint in Ethan's eyes. "What?" he asked. "Eth, what the hell did you and the Prophet do?"

"Just watch the mortals, Jack and I'll handle…our uncle," Ethan told him, vanishing easily and leaving Jack to curse more while knowing his nerves wouldn't be settled until the tension in the house was relieved.

**Inside the house:**

"What're you two idjits up to?" Bobby demanded from the kitchen where he was putting bowls of food on the floor for his newest guests. He noticed the tension on Dean's face and the worry on Sam's and then guessed what was happening. "Dean! You need to be resting!"

"Yeah, in a minute," Dean called back, determined that he would not ask about the little Hell Yorkies and so went to concentrate on his brother who had slipped into the basement while he wasn't looking. "Damn it," he muttered. "Sam…"

Accepting what the next few minutes would hold, Sam didn't want the shouting or yelling to upset the house so he'd chosen what he hoped was a safe place. He'd grabbed something that he knew his brother would more than likely want and then just waited…despite hating to even be in this room.

"I swear if Bobby ends up making beds for those things we're dousing him with Holy water or something," Dean was saying as he appeared in the door to the Panic Room. "I started out with one in that place and that's how I found you but where the other five came from is beyond me," looking around, he seemed to hesitate in entering the room that he could recall dimly but vividly. "What're we doing down here, Sammy?" he asked after a moment, seeing the one shouldered shrug and knowing his brother was scared.

"Guessed it would be safer…quieter," the younger Winchester replied in the same soft voice he'd used when younger and hesitant or worried. "You're mad at me."

"Pissed beyond words is a better choice," Dean acknowledged, stepping into the room and not missing the way Sam took an automatic step back. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised if you're scared of me…considering I stabbed you," he mused, leaving the door open so his brother would have a way out if things got too bad since Dean still wasn't sure how much Sam remembered about being locked in here.

A little leery about being in the Panic Room and wary about his brother's temper and reactions, Sam had been backing up until he frowned. "Dean, you were drugged out of your head and Angel zapped…you didn't know what you were doing," he scoffed but knew with how much guilt his brother already carried this would be hard to overlook for him. "Hell, all you did was stab me. I got a bigger cut by a crazy spirit witch who threw an axe at me, tried to kill me and threw me over a banister."

A muscle in his jaw twitched at that description. "Sam? I really want to know what the hell you've been up to and who I need to yell at," he muttered, certain that he wasn't going to be happy with a lot of things as he looked around the room to see that Sam had shoved the bed out of the center of the room and over to one wall. "You okay in here?"

"Hurts a little," Sam admitted then added in a softer tone. "I…couldn't help you, Dean. Morg and I wanted to and it hurt so much to have you chained to that bed because I knew that must have been what you felt when I was down here and…I'm…sorry…"

"For?" Dean asked curiously, walking over to slide down a wall so his back was resting against it. "Y'know, I think we've had talks like this a couple times recently and I also think I remember telling you that I don't hate you," he closed his eyes as if resting them but kept a close watch on his nervous little brother from under his lashes. "Pick a new topic."

"Hell, for starters and we can go backwards to every goddamn thing Dad ever did to you because of me," Sam returned, scuffing a toe on the cement and missed the sharp intake of breath but not the quiet curse. "Zachariah and his goons bragged how you were hurt in Hell because of me and then Alastair's image showed me…stuff and I know it's true because Morgan didn't deny it or…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Super Geek," Dean finally cut in, wishing he could gut that damn Angel and his former demon torturer for even bringing this matter to Sam's attention but something else nagged him too. "First, I told you in there, what I did in Hell is water under the bridge and to let it go…Sam!"

Tired, sore, worried, and frustrated beyond words finally had Sam whirling to face his brother while thrusting out a leather bound journal that looked much like their Dad's journal but this one wasn't as used or big. It was however known to Dean who swallowed tightly when he saw it grasped in Sam's shaking fingers.

"Morgan and I saw what Dad told those guys to do, Dean…after he took us from Bobby's that summer. I don't care that you lied to me because I know why you sent me with Caleb and I know why you told me nothing bad happened but the point is…you stayed!" Sam snapped, emotions spilling over in a why that he hadn't allowed to happen in years. I don't know which of those images were true or why we saw them but I saw what they did to you after Dad walked out…I saw you only fight the hardest when they threatened me and Morg," he went on, vividly recalling that image because he understood similar feelings after certain events in his life. "Dean…they…"

Taking the journal that he used to write his private thoughts and encounters in, Dean ran a hand over the cover before opening it to skim the pages. Seeing sparse and scattered ink stains he knew they'd been made by restless tears dropped while Sam was reading words, experiences and comments that Dean had honestly never planned on anyone reading…while he was alive.

Guessing that his brother and friend had probably been given access to his worst memories while in that mindscape, Dean finally nodded. "Big brother choices, Sammy," he began while stretching his legs out in front of him and holding out the golden amulet before slipping it back around his neck. "I'd made and accepted the choice to protect you from the moment I carried you out of the house back in Lawrence. Dad and his crap…taking it was just something I learned early on to do and I never questioned it because I would die or go to prison for killing someone before I let you be hurt," Dean told him, slowly pushing to his feet with a silent groan as wounds pulled. "I've told you that and as for Hell…"

"Alastair threatened to hurt me to make you give in?" Sam knew it, had seen it, but frowned at the way his brother looked. "Dean? You went to Hell for me, they…hurt you over and over down there…I saw the knives, the hooks, the…" voice breaking on a sob he knew neither of them would be comfortable with, the younger man was turning to move away when a hand suddenly gripped his wrist. "Why? Why would you give in for me?" he asked.

"I gave in after thirty years because no, I wasn't going to let that demented demon bastard have a chance to touch you," Dean replied, hating to have to get into this with Sam. "Sam, there are torments in Hell that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy and I wasn't going to let them hurt you but…it wasn't just you that he threatened," he added quietly, making a tight fist without being aware of it until he felt a hesitant touch on his arm.

Sam watched his brother, watched his face, the way he was tensing and then understood. "Morgan," he whispered, catching the muscle reaction in Dean's jaw. "Alastair knew about Morgan…Dad told him about her and…you so he used her and me as leverage."

"Gold star, Sammy," Dean forced a tight smile as he forced himself to relax. "Dad, up to the very goddamn end, knew how to work me and it worked but…" he paused to grab a hold of Sam's face in both hands to make him look at him so the understanding was plain. "It was my choice because you and Morgan will always be what I look after first. Now, before I start asking you just what was happening here, I'm giving you free rein for a complain proof chick flick moment. Hit me with your best shot, baby brother."

Knowing how rare it was for Dean to drop the 'no chick flick' rule, Sam considered it as he remembered the things he'd seen in that mindscape, to what he'd read in his brother's private journal to things that he'd seen from Morgan's own perspective. Then he recalled the absolute fear he'd felt at the thought of losing his brother this time and suddenly, for the moment, his questions and doubts didn't seem important.

Moving before Dean could gauge his actions, Sam reached out to grab into his brother in a way that he hadn't since he'd been a small child hiding from a nightmare. "I…thought you were gone this time, De'n," he whispered tightly, hearing and ignoring the broken sobs that came when he felt the strong arms return his hug fully and just let him go without a word. "You were…so hurt, so wild that nothing we said or did helped and I didn't care about me…I just wanted my brother! I couldn't help Morgan and she was so scared and hurt even before…but I knew and I still know that you can heal her…just don't leave…"

"Sammy, Sammy, shhh," finally Dean broke in, tightening his grip only when he felt his younger brother shudder and nearly fall then he made certain to clasp one hand tight to Sam's neck which he hoped would still reconnect them. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere," he promised, voice gruff with emotion as he recognized the same fear in Sam's watery hazel eyes as he had the summer he'd been sixteen and hurt. "I promised you that in Oregon. I'm not leaving you and…I'll…do what I can for Morgan but Sammy, she's gonna be scared of me.

"I hurt Morg really bad, Sam and even though I didn't know I was doing it, I was still the hand holding the blade that cut her," he'd been dreading this moment since his memories came back because he accepted the reasons that the Angels had him hurt his friend and also knew that if he couldn't get her to trust him that things would change in a way that would also hurt Sam. "It'll be okay, little brother but…it might take some time and…I need to know what else happened to her."

That meant that his brother wanted the papers Chuck gave him and while Sam wasn't sure if his brother was prepared for what he'd read, he slowly reached into his back pocket to hand him the folded papers. "She never blamed you for what Dad did," he murmured, wiping his eyes when he felt the hand that was still on his neck squeeze comfortingly. "Chuck said he couldn't always see Morgan because she was like a blur to him but some things came through…Dean, why were you in Modesto getting roadhauled by bikers?"

"Shut up, Sam," Dean growled, refusing to get into that yet as he skimmed the first few pages and felt his skin crawl. "Sammy? Did you know that Chuck included things in here about you?"

"Crap," Sam went to grab the papers only to have his fingers slapped much like he had as a kid. "Dean…I can explain…"

"Uh-huh, you will…after I'm done," Dean remarked, blowing out a breath and stuffing the papers into his own pocket for reading once he was away from the house. "We good for now or what?" he asked, knowing Sam hadn't reached peak emotional outburst yet but suspected he knew what his brother was waiting for and just hoped he could give it to him.

Hearing the sound of paws skittering on the basement steps and Bobby shouting to look out, Sam nodded slowly. "I…have things I need to talk to you about but…for now, yeah, we're good," he admitted, not able to cover the wince as his brother's other hand seemed to unerringly find his shoulder wound. "Dean, I'm alright. You're…"

"Oh, I feel worse than when I got fried fighting that Rawhead or when that semi smashed my baby," Dean returned with a tired smirk then nodded upstairs. "Let Bobby check that shoulder and peek in on Morgan for me, okay?"

Blinking, Sam nodded then caught Dean's arm. "Wait, where're you going?" he asked, mild panic forming at the idea of not knowing where his brother was or the risk of him being attacked again. "Dean…you should stay inside until you're stronger or wait until Jack checks things out or…"

"Sammy, I'm just going outside for a little while to read these," Dean heard the panic and swore that Sam needed to have such fears on top of everything else in his life. "I'll be fine. Then I'll come back, check you out for wounds caused by some witch and lecture you for taking my car…and probably grill you for answers," he chided in a way to ease some of his brother's fears. "I'm not leaving. I just need some time, Sam."

Recalling how Dean would isolate himself when they'd been younger, Sam now understood why and he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that his brother would seek to do so now. Nodding, he slowly stepped back but still chewed his lip. "Dean?"

"I know you do, Sammy. I do too," Dean sighed, then coughed. "If Bobby asks, tell him I'm mulling over my dark and dismal future somewhere in the junkyard."

Laughing a little at telling the grizzled hunter that reply, Sam smiled. "Where will you really be…if I need you or Morg wakes up?" he asked then shook his head, knowing the answer without being told. "Never mind. I know where you're going."

"One of these days, college boy, you aren't gonna be so smart," Dean shot back, smiling when he was sure Sam was out of sight then stepped outside via the basement door and his smile slowly dimmed as he walked deeper into the junkyard to finally stop by the same old Mustang that he'd talked Bobby out of selling.

Running a hand over the still smooth hood, his mind recalls his memory in the mindscape of Jim Murphy and once again he thought of Morgan and what he'd learned, what he'd seen and how stupid he'd been to think that his Dad wouldn't have tried to hurt her.

"Damn it," he muttered, sitting on the hood of the Mustang to begin going through the papers Chuck had supplied Sam with and soon felt his temper raging as he not only read in detail what his sixteen year old friend had endured in San Antonio at the hands of hunters he'd actually met but also what his own father had done.

Then he read on and felt his empty stomach heave as he began to understand the things that neither Morgan nor Sam were telling him and vowing that he was finding them out before anyone left South Dakota this time.

**Back at the house, and hour and 45 minutes later:**

The sounds of yipping, barking, shouting and laughing all seemed to make her head throb more as Morgan woke up with a groan, then sputtered as a wet tongue licked her face happily. "Oh, bloody hell, if that's not you Dean then somebody's going to fry," she vowed firmly, blinking when she opened her eyes to find a tiny pair of red eyes watching her and couldn't cover the surprised squeak.

"Oh, crap," Sam's voice came from the door as he scooped up the last Hell Yorkie that he'd been searching for and handing her to a confused Castiel to take downstairs. "Sorry, the dogs decided to play hide and seek and this one got away from me," he apologized, quick to hide his amused grin as she grumbled about doggy drool. "Guess I could mention to Bobby that maybe you and Dean…"

"Shut up, Sam," she muttered, going to throw a pillow at the youngest Winchester only to hiss as her right arm didn't seem to have any strength. "Damn."

Walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, Sam quietly observed his friend and the first thing he noticed was how pale she still seemed which told him that she hadn't regained enough strength yet. Then he noticed several thin spots of blood that were showing through her thin sweatshirt, which told him that her wounds were still reopening.

This was something he'd noticed also happening on his brother and so Sam began to understand what both the alternate Dean and Jack MacShayne were saying about guilt and trust playing a huge part in healing each other.

"You've been sleeping for about three days," he remarked upon seeing her looking around the room, handing her a glass of water he also caught how much his friend's hand shook as she tried to hold the glass. "It's okay."

Morgan doubted that since she could still feel the effects of not only the drugs but also her injuries. Knowing why she wasn't healing as fast, she accepted that she needed to face Dean but then her last conscious thoughts came back and her eyes flew to Sam. "Hey, how're you?" she demanded, forgetting the water in order to lightly run her hands over him as if checking for wounds. "Sammy, you still hurt or…"

"No…yes…I'm fine, Morgan," the young hunter assured her, catching her hands with a smile. "I'm fine," he stressed again, seeing her doubts and sighing. "Okay, fine is a thin line but I'm doing good. You and Dean are the ones hurt so you should just stay laid down until he gets back in…damn."

Sam knew he'd made a mistake the second he felt Morgan's tired blue eyes pin him much like she would when he was twelve and running high on sugar. "I guess asking you to try just back to sleep…"

"Where's Dean, Sam?" she demanded, trying to sense but feeling nothing and wasn't certain if her powers were still too low or if the link was still damaged. "Sammy? Where is Dean?"

"He's outside at that old Mustang," he finally answered, seeing her eyes change as if she was thinking and he placed a gentle hand over the one that had clenched on the bed. "He's isolating himself again, Morg. I know why. I know he's hurt bad and hiding it from me but I…also know he's scared of how you're going to react to him.

"Before Jack sent the other 'Dean' away, he told Dean that he still had a shot to have what he'd lost but you know how Dean is with stuff and…" Sam stopped when he saw her shift uneasily. "You're scared of him, I know but Morg, this is Dean and he'd never hurt you willingly. You know that, you know how he feels but he needs to know that you can forgive him because if he can't forgive himself…then Zachariah wins because Dean's guilt will kill him and…"

"I know, Sammy…I know," Morgan murmured, glancing out the window as if seeing something then recalled something else. "Dean knows…you know."

Blinking, Sam had to think since he'd been learning a lot of stuff recently but then he realized what she meant and understood the other reasons his friend would be leery of seeing his brother. "I…I don't think I know everything Dean does but I…know he said that…is that true?" he asked, still shocked about what he'd heard Dean reveal to their friend. "About Pastor Jim? That he was your…"

"Adopted father, yeah," Morgan sighed while silently swearing to exorcise Jim Murphy if he ever showed back up in spirit form. "I told Jim not to tell you and Dean because I didn't want anyone to know that Jim had adopted a freak and because…I didn't want Dean knowing how we met," she was quiet and determined that Sam would not learn those details if she could help it. "Sam, there are things that I keep from you and Dean not only to protect you but to protect me because there are other ways to be hurt than just physically and losing you or your cocky big brother because of those things would be worse than coping with the memories in the first place."

"Morg, nothing in your past would ever change how Dean or I look at you," Sam assured her, hesitating before he reached out to touch her cheek and was surprised to feel tears. "I…saw what Dad did in Boston before Dean got there and I know it wasn't as bad as San Antonio…wait," he caught her hand before she could move away out of an instinctive need to shield herself from those memories.

"Look, I think that between all of us that we all still have secrets and I know you and Dean both have stuff that you'd rather protect me from but, and risking getting slapped in the hand, I'm not twelve and I really can handle stuff without needing you guys shielding me," he cocked his head casually to smile shyly. "I love that you feel that you still have to but sometimes it helps to let it out."

Hating to be psycho-analyzed at anytime, Morgan shot Sam a dry look then lifted one fine eyebrow. "Really? That mean you're gonna tell Dean about the almost frat house you joined or that other incident that happened at school?" she countered, smiling as his look turned dark and she lightly ran a hand over his more than normal unruly hair. "Sammy, Dean and I will always protect you because it's what we do but…I get what you're saying and…I know what I need to do."

Standing up slowly, the young British woman was honestly shocked at how weak she still was but pushed it aside so Sam didn't see it and worry more than he was. "I'll…go talk to Dean and…"

"Sam!" Bobby shouted from the foot of the steps. "This one goddamn mutt just chewed the tire off this wheelchair! Get your ass down here and help me keep them outta stuff until MacShayne figures out what to do with them!" he ordered sternly, throwing a dark look down at the six tiny terrors who were all watching him with happy black wagging tongues. "God help me but y'all are kinda cute," he admitted then groaned. "Sam!"

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Sam wondered if he could sneak out when a soft touch squeezed his neck. "I know, I know. Go distract Bobby," he glanced over his shoulder with a pure smile this time. "Wasn't that what you used to tell me when you wanted time alone with Dean out in the junkyard or…"

"Shut up, Sam or Dean will find out a couple little things about Stanford that you wouldn't like," Morgan warned lightly, noticing the battered leather jacket that had been laying beside her. "Namely, the fact that you spent three nights in the hospital after you crossed paths with the campus blockheads and only Chase saving your ass kept you from being hurt worse."

Muttering under his breath about her knowing far too much, Sam had just taken a step when he turned back quickly. "Chase?" he repeated, fighting to place the name when his frown grew more suspicious. "Chase as in Professor Chase Masters, my history professor and guidance counselor?" he stared at her calm expression until she shrugged.

"Guidance counselor, history professor…reserve Queens Court Raider who still took orders when he needed to, same thing," she replied easily, patting his cheek as she then was quick to get out before he thought too much and really flipped out. "Guess telling him that half of the Stanford security force was on Kel's payroll wouldn't be wise right now either."

"Reserve…" Sam finally put the pieces together and blew out a breath of frustration and amusement as certain things from his Stanford time now made more sense and he laughed. "Damn her. Yeah, I'm coming, Bobby!"

**Out in the backlot of Singer Salvage:**

"Stupid…obstinate…cursed hunk of junk. One of these days I'm going to help Bobby scrap you," Dean Winchester was frustrated, on edge, still more than slightly pissed off and all three showed in the tone of his voice.

Having read every scrap of paper that Chuck Shirley had supplied Sam of both things that had fully happened and things he'd seen and written only to have them change in mid-draft, it hadn't taken Dean long to understand what was happening and then his already strained emotions hit the boiling point.

Reading of some of the more vicious things his little brother had encountered during his early days at college had infuriated him, especially the one time when Sam had actually broken down and called him only to have their own Father intercept the call and tell him to suck it up and accept real life.

Dean vowed that as soon as things calmed down he was pinning Sam down to find out just what else he hadn't been saying. The papers that pissed Dean off the most though were the ones where Chuck had seen pretty clearly or at least well enough to tell him just how many times Morgan had been close to both of them…and how many times she'd been hurt helping him but what finished it was the pages that told him in glaring detail the horrid abuse his friend had suffered in San Antonio even before their own encounter. The night John Winchester set her up and then watched as his cronies beat and assaulted an already injured teenager.

"Son of a bitch!" still furious, Dean's gaze went to the bruises and open wounds on his knuckles where he'd taken his frustration of that out on a few of the junks littered nearby.

After a searing pain in his back reminded him that he still had other wounds he decided to try to work off the burning pain and anger on the Mustang…much like he would as a kid. Only he was then reminded that this car, that held so many memories, was also a cursed piece of crap that hated him at times.

Scraping his knuckles when the socket wrench slipped on the plug he was trying to tighten, he let out a long curse then felt the change in the air that almost told him who was close and Dean was surprised at the way his chest seem to tighten at the possibility of this confrontation.

Having discarded the long sleeve overshirt that he'd been wearing in favor of the black short sleeve T-shirt despite the coolness of the air, he went back to the car's engine in order to allow her to approach at her own speed though he did smile a little at one stray thought.

Dean knew the link he and Morgan shared was still active but he was keeping it low until he discovered how she was coping with things because he didn't want this meeting or what happened during it to be determined by mere thoughts or emotions. That thought however gave him hope.

"How'd you get out past Sam and Bobby, not to mention that mystic?" he called at last, hearing a sharp breath and knew he'd surprised her which was still something he loved doing since it usually took a lot to take his friend off guard.

"I…I dropped something on Sam that he's probably still steaming over and I don't Bobby's going anywhere until Jack figures out a way to change the tire on the chair after one of those Hell puppies ate it," came the soft reply. "How'd you get past Bobby?"

Smirking, Dean lifted his head to look over his shoulder to find her standing a few feet away. "I went out through the basement and missed him," he admitted, shrugging then after a long moment of silence he finally laid down the tool to turn slowly. "Hey, babe."

The drop in tone, the huskiness of it was one he only used when it was just them alone and despite the inner fears, the memories that still urged her to run, that voice still made her heart jump. "Still won't run?" she eyed the Mustang and her eyes changed softly as if remembering the other times out here.

"This damn thing hates me," Dean shot back, reaching for a rag to wipe the grease from his hands but wasn't quick enough to hide either hiss of pain or the grimace before his friend noticed both.

"What the bloody hell did you do?" Morgan asked, reaching on instinct to take the hand closest to her when she noticed the bloody knuckles. "Dean…?" she gasped when his hand turned to hold hers and she couldn't quite block the image that came at his touch and knew it the moment he made a low sound in his throat. "I'm…"

Letting go, Dean tossed the rag and considered his other shirt then just as quickly decided against it while leaning against the car to blow out a breath. "So…you want to talk or…how do we do this?" he asked, suddenly feeling tired and more than a little anxious because he knew if he handled this wrong then he'd lose her again. "I think we both know that I can help you turn those powers to heal yourself but I'm also thinking that you aren't going to let me touch you…yet."

Morgan really wished she could push this down like she'd down so many other things in her life but she knew that for Dean to heal, either physically or mentally, he needed to come to terms with what happened not only to him but what he'd been forced to do.

"What…what do you remember?" she asked hesitantly, carefully laying his battered leather jacket inside the Mustang for the moment but tensed briefly when she felt his hand gently on her shoulder but not because she feared him but because she knew he was now aware of what was on that shoulder.

"In the mindscape, I would see the images of being attacked, of fighting Zachariah's torture geeks and uh… what else I did…what I did to Sam…to you but I told myself they were nightmares, they were wrong. It wasn't until I spoke with Jim and realized where I was, what was real…that I understood that I had full memory of every goddamn thing from the moment I woke up at Bobby's to find that Sam had taken my car to go help you until I slipped under finally after telling someone to kill me because I couldn't fight it anymore," Dean began slowly, coughing to cover the emotions that threatened to come but accepted that he was going to have to lose that rule if he hoped to fix this. "I remember, Morgan. Do you?" he asked curiously, knowing she did but knowing she'd lie if she thought it would help. "Jim said that you never forgot anything unless forced. That's why you still have perfect memory of what happened to you as a baby and with my Dad…Morgan," he tightened his grip on her shoulder only enough to hold when he felt her start to pull free. "Do you remember?"

Surprised at how much she wanted to run from this, Morgan fought against the panicked laugh that wanted to come as she crossed her arms tightly around herself but noticed that his touch had only increased to keep her still, not to hurt and then she felt it begin to gently caress over her shoulder and across her neck.

"Jim sure was bloody chatty with you," she murmured, wishing it was only this one thing that she knew Dean meant but knowing he was also talking about the other things he'd picked up. "Do I remember what, Dean?" she asked quietly, staring at her hands as they gripped her arms until she felt him reach around her slowly to carefully take her hands in his to hold them as his own arms wrapped around to hold while making certain not to hold her as close or as tight as he once would have. "Do I remember meeting Jim when I was three or the abuse I was put through by my foster parents? Do I remember every bleedin' thing in my life that should have me in a rubber room by this point? Do I remember meeting you and having everything change for me because you made me feel safe for the first time in my life with someone other than my friends or do I remember every bloody detail of every time John tried to hurt me?"

Morgan knew she was tense and too close to an edge that she'd fought for years to avoid but Dean's presence, his touch as his hands had begun to gently rub her arms in a soothing motion, and the buried guilt she could feel from him were all combining to lessen the control she'd kept over these things.

"Well, all of those would be good to know and I'm sure we'll get into that but I sort of meant…do you remember what _I_ did to you this time in San Antonio," Dean replied, suspecting how deep in denial his friend might be when she didn't push him away the moment he slipped his arms around her from behind, something she'd always tensed at even when they'd been younger.

"I don't blame you for it, Dean," Morgan told him, recalling every detail of that time from the moment she and Sam were attacked to the time she felt the first strap being tightened to hold her to that damn cross shaped rack until she felt… "You…didn't know…you…"

"It was still my hands, these hands, that hurt you, Angel," the young hunter murmured, easing closer so that he could feel her body shaking.

Dean had known Morgan for a long time and even with the years separating them, he'd known from that one summer that she'd bury what she was afraid of in order to help him or Sam. This time he knew that he'd have to push her much like he'd pushed his frightened withdrawn little brother after those damn rednecks had kidnapped him.

Only with Morgan he had an edge because he could feel that he had the strength to ease that link. "I told Sammy that even though yeah I was drugged and seeing the crap that Zach wanted me to, it was still my hands that held the knife that cut you, that held the torch that burned you," he waited a beat to add in a softer voice. "It was still my hands that cut that mark into your back or scrawled the initials on your stomach…no, don't…" he tightened his arms this time to the point of holding her still against him at the first sign that the young woman would bolt from this talk. "You can tell yourself that you don't blame me since I can blame myself enough for the both of us but you can't deny that I hurt you and you can't deny that you're scared of me."

"Scared of him…not you," Morgan whispered tightly, briefly struggling against the arms that held her because she could remember feeling them hold her still there as well. "Dean, you fought them there and they hurt you because it was like at times you didn't want to…hurt me but…" she suddenly shivered as a flash of images came and knew why. "No, don't do this. Dean, please…"

"You couldn't see me but you knew where I was every moment," he spoke low while noticing that while she tensed, Morgan's hands had latched onto his arm to hold as he used his free hand to gently card his fingers through her hair and down her cheek. "Zach made damn certain I didn't see you but it still broke my heart at every scream or cry and when I touched her face to feel tears that's when I tried to fight again but the drugs were too strong and I did every goddamn thing that bastard said to."

Feeling her slender form seem to bow as if trying to curl up, Dean eased them to the ground so that his back was to the car but he made certain to keep Morgan tight in his arms as he offered a silent apology. "I remember every slash, burn, mark and bruise I put on you, Morg. Now, show me from your end. Don't hide it because you can't heal until you accept what was done…just like you haven't accepted what Dad did in San Antonio or…ugh!"

Instinct, pure and long ago made, had her reacting to that in the only way she could. Needing to be free since she couldn't handle any mention of John's attack while being held, Morgan threw a hard elbow back and while she didn't have the normal strength the blow to already sore and broke ribs was enough to make Dean loosen his grip.

"Don't you dare…say that to me!" she snapped, managing to get to her feet but only barely as everything was now just coming down on her. "I was sixteen when I thought you were in over your oh-so-cocky head in Texas! I came straight through from a job with Kelly and the 'Raiders to help you only to be nailed by those…" flashes of memory from that night hit and she closed her eyes briefly against the brutal memories of being raped and then branded. "I accepted that night even before I released myself AMA from the hospital to go to Florida for you.

"I accepted that your Dad hated me! I accepted that in Bobby's house when he stabbed a bleedin' knife in my shoulder after I stopped him from hurting Sam! So don't tell me that I haven't accepted anything because accepting is all I can do since I can't bloody well forget!" Morgan shouted, unaware of the tears that were falling or how close Dean had gotten until she turned and ran right into his chest.

Only this time, her reaction wasn't calm and Dean didn't seem to be surprised when her fist struck out with as much force as she could right then…though he was glad her powers weren't up to par since he knew then he'd be ash.

"When Jim said that you don't forget the things that happen, he wasn't just referring to the actual memories, was he?" Dean asked while already certain of the answer but made no move to actual reach for her yet. "You can recall the emotions, the feelings…the pain that goes along with them, can't you…Angel? That's why you shut it off. That's why you've buried everything because when you remember…you feel it…sonuvabitch," he breathed as it hit him. "When you take or heal or feel things from Sam or me, you're not only getting the physical memories but also…that's why Jim warned me to be careful what you took or what you saw. You take in the pain, the emotions too."

Now Dean did reach out to grasp her carefully by the upper arms but didn't try to stop Morgan when her fists continued to beat his chest out of frustrations that had been building for a long time. As he allowed her to continue to lash out, he took the time to try to level his own building emotions because he knew he'd have time to handle his own issues after he handled this.

Realizing this his friend was not only reliving the memories but also the very pain and emotion that went along with them, things that weren't only her own but also anytime she felt him or Sam made Dean sick since he had a hunch he knew what she'd been doing all these years but the fact that she knew the darker things of his life, of Sam's and had buried them along with her own nightmares again made him furious with not only his own Father but also Jim Murphy who should've told him the extent of Morgan's powers.

"You were lured to Texas the first time because of me, you were brought to Texas this time because of me. You were hurt because of me. Now, tell me who you blame," Dean urged, hating to push this hard and knowing he wasn't going to like the reply but needing her to say it but he wasn't expecting the answer he got. "Tell me who you blame, Morg."

"Me," she whispered, eyes closed tightly as her right fist seemed to finally give out with a final punch to his already bruised and injured chest then with a small cry of brutal emotional pain she let herself fall against him and either wasn't aware when his arms folded around her or she was at the stage where she could accept his embrace. "I blame me for being stupid enough to fall for it, I blame John for all the crap he's done to you…to Sammy…I blame the goddamn Angels for manipulating things, for hurting you…"

Startled by her response, Dean had to shake himself out of it to slowly open the link in order to try to brush off some of the heavier crap from his friend while bringing her in fully against his chest while turning his face into her hair to whisper and soothe.

"Sshh, let it go now, Morg," he urged softly, feeling her try to cling but unable to and understood the effects those drugs had on her and so decided on one final action. "Why don't you blame me?" he asked, fingers trembling while brushing her hair back and noticing the burn on the base of her neck that he recognized as something Zachariah put there. "I've read things that Chuck wrote, Sam's showed me your journals and I've seen things in the link that's showed you being hurt trying to protect us…so why can't you blame me, Morgan?" he asked, feeling her inner struggle to find an answer. "Why is it so hard to blame me?"

"Because I love you."

Simple words that still managed to shock Dean into a rare silence until he slowly let his own eyes close briefly to recall the times he'd said those words in his life. Other than to Sam, which was still few and far between, Dean knew he'd said them to a few girls but he couldn't recall ever saying them and honestly meaning them until…now.

He recalled the warning from the 2014 time displaced 'Dean' and also his brother's own words more than once while he still struggled with the guilt of not only knowing he'd been responsible for harming his friend this time but also swallowing the blame for his Dad's unreasonable hatred for Morgan that ended with her being hurt numerous times.

"'_You can't blame yourself for what John did, Dean_,'" the voice of Jim Murphy spoke like a breeze in his ear as he shuddered against both pain and memories. "'_You can't hold onto the blame of what you were made to do either. Just like you and Sam have let go of the guilt of what occurred during that whole Siren mess, you need to let go of this because neither Sam nor Morgan hold you responsible for their wounds but you both need to let go of the guilt and fear in order to heal. Help her heal, Dean and she'll help you because from the first moment I saw the three of you together, I knew you and Morgan would be together. Just let go…and heal, son,_'" he urged. "'_Heal and let yourself feel honestly for once_.'"

Calming down some, Morgan slowly realized what she must have just said and swore silently to herself. She knew Dean buried his emotions, the real ones, deep down and rarely had she seen him show any except for that summer and then they came only after he'd been pushed or he thought she was sleeping.

To come right out and say the words that she knew he'd hardly heard growing up and probably only uttered sparsely in his life made her kick herself. Starting to ease away to give him space to either cover or shrug the words away, she was surprised to feel his arms tighten in order to keep her still. "Dean?" almost fearing his reaction to the accidental slip in words, Morgan was hesitant to look up when she felt his fingers gently stroke over her face then lift it up. "I'm…sorry…I didn't mean to…"

"I love you," Dean was surprised at how easy those words actually came to him and how much saying them seemed to settle his nerves as he also began to settle his own self doubts and guilt. "Since I'm being honest, I've loved you probably from the first night we met and the fact that you took to Sammy, that you cared about him just made me love you more," he told her quietly, seeing her surprise but figured if she was surprised his little brother would be floored as he continued to touch her face with one hand while letting his other settle lightly against her lower back, pleased when she didn't go rigid as she had even before this.

"There's a lot I wish I could change…namely losing fifteen years with you but…I need you to understand that I never stopped caring, Morg," he told her, hoping he could get this out and that he wasn't scaring her more since right then he couldn't tell. "Even knowing what Dad said, I still loved you and the only reason you woke up alone in that motel in Boston was because Sammy called me and I had to go…"

"I saw what that…man did to Sam, Dean," Morgan murmured, vividly recalling that image because it had hurt so much that she hadn't protected him and the tears spilled as she finally looked up to see his green eyes seemed calm, deep and reminded her so much of their youth when he'd look at her with those eyes. "Sammy was hurt and scared. You needed to be with him not…"

A finger lightly stilled her lips as he gently turned so her back was against the Mustang which allowed him to use both hands to move them carefully over her arms while always keeping one on her face when he began to feel the warmth, recalling another time he'd felt that and knew the link was active and slowly let it grow so Morgan could feel it more.

"I needed to be with you both, babe," he corrected firmly yet softly when he noticed how her blue eyes seemed to be glazing over and knew she was still exhausted and pushing it. "I should've been with you and Sam. I should've, after that who crapshoot at Bobby's went down, taken Sam and found you like every part of me was telling me to but I can't change that. All I can do is…make sure it doesn't happen again and make damn certain that you and Sammy are never hurt again."

Tired, sore, and still suffering from the effects of recent days, Morgan felt herself giving in to the exhaustion and the soothing effects that Dean's soft deep voice and gentle touch were having. "You're… hurt," she murmured, blinking up at him to see the mild change in his eyes as his finger traced her jaw before leaning in to lightly kiss her cheek. "Dean?"

"Yeah, babe?" Dean smiled, feeling her emotions settling and deciding the rest of it could wait until she was stronger and so he went back to lightly playing with the ends of her hair like he had that night in the cabin.

"Are you going to kiss me?" sensing her friend's thoughts were more at ease as well as relaxing as he held her, Morgan knew the game he was playing and was too tired at the moment to turn the tables on him.

"I was thinking about it," he admitted, letting his fingers trail down the curve of her neck to where he'd normally feel the silver chain of her necklace and reminding himself to put that back on her at the soonest available moment. "You mind?"

Morgan slowly considered it as a last barrage of memories surfaced but this time she focused on the man in front of her, his thoughts and the feel of his arms and finally shook her head. "Can you?" she asked, biting her lip as she added in a softer voice that Dean had to strain to hear. "You know about…me now and that's why I didn't want you to know because it would change how…you or…"

"Angel," knowing now why Morgan had guarded her past so tightly and understanding why she was suddenly more unsure about kissing him than she had been at fourteen, Dean swore to take those shadows away the first moment he could lose Sam and Bobby. Right then, he'd do the best with what he had. "I can't say that I don't care about what happened to you but…" he paused to catch her face before she could turn away before adding carefully. "I care because it hurt you, because some sick bastard hurt you because he could. As for it changing how I look at you or how I feel about kissing you?" slowly, he smiled in that way that he knew had always made her laugh and he heard her small giggle. "Give me a chance and I'll show you what I couldn't before."

Blinking, Morgan took in his eyes and smile and recognized the look at the one Dean always used when he was about to pull a stunt that usually had her warning him about Sam being nearby. Normally she'd feel edgy or nervous with that look even though Dean had always been careful on how far they went.

Today, after everything she'd been through, the emotions, and memories brought back she expected to feel the same way but as Dean's hands continued to caress her face, arms, and back she shivered once but not from the cold as she nodded. Then she seemed to lose focus the moment he kissed her.

Dean had waited, giving her the time to step back or go forward and he could read the war of emotions she seemed to be having until he caught the tiny headshake which gave him permission. Planning to keep this kiss light and easy, he was startled when he felt the edge of it change for them both and pulled back after a second to verify something.

"Okay?" he asked, determined that he wouldn't go any farther than he felt she could handle yet especially when he knew she still had issues to deal with.

"Where's Sam?" that wasn't the question he was expecting but soon understood her need to know when he felt her hands tremble as her fingers reached to touch his T-shirt and swallowed.

"Back at the house corralling Yorkies from Hell and hopefully sleeping," Dean replied, smoothing a hand up her back and was relieved not to feel any heat from the wound on her back. "Why, Morg?" he asked in a teasing tone then groaned when she offered a hesitant, almost shy kiss that still took him back to the days when he believed in normal and happy.

Accepting that this was probably a mistake since both of them still had issues to deal with, Morgan ignored that in favor of what her heart was saying and went for what she wanted for once and that was being able to touch, feel and be touched without being afraid. "Kiss me, Dean," she whispered softly then tugged at the black T-shirt that she'd always loved to see on him. "With this thing off."

"Huh," Dean murmured, hearing and feeling her frustration as he considered it for all of two seconds before pulling the shirt over his head then moved quickly to kiss her again while clasping both hands around Morgan's waist to lift her up, feeling her wraps her arms around his neck. "God, if Sam shows up now I'm breaking his legs," he groaned, hearing her laugh then gasp as he more than gently laid her down in the Mustang but made no other moves except to ease next to her to kiss her neck while his hand hovered over her stomach. "Morg?"

Mind still a blur of emotions and a little numb by what seemed to be happening, Morgan blinked at him when she heard the concern in the husky voice that only came when they were alone or he was covering his emotions. Seeing where his hand was, she knew what he wanted and for the first time felt fear but not of him or their actions but for him if he did what he was asking permission for.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Angel," Dean promised, noticing that she'd clasped his shirt tightly before nodding that it was alright and he gently pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat before gingerly lifting the edge of the sweatshirt but only far enough to let him see…

The palm print that Zachariah had burned into her skin didn't seem as deep as he allowed their link to turn her natural healing powers but it was the jagged scrawled initials under the print that he needed to see and gritted his teeth as he ran a gentle finger over them when he heard the first sob.

"Hey, easy," he soothed, pushing his anger aside to concentrate on taking away the pain he knew she still felt and as he moved so that she could curl against him, Dean rehooked the silver heart necklace that he'd pulled from his jeans back around her neck and felt her relax as soon at he did this. "It's yours, Morgan and no one will ever take that from you," he promised, turning her face so their eyes met and he carded his fingers back through her hair while giving in to the burning passion that had been building between them since he'd been fifteen. "Just like no one will take you and Sammy from me again. Promise?"

Smiling shakily at his offer, Morgan reached up to meet his hand with her own and felt the sparks shoot from their meshed fingers much like it had years ago and giggled, seeing Dean's smile lighten a moment before his mouth found hers again and gave in to the security he offered.

"Dean…" she whimpered his name and felt her body move under his hand when it carefully, yet gently glided over her without even touching but she was so far under that she missed what Dean didn't.

Laying beside her, using his strength, the link they shared and the love he'd allowed himself to admit to, Dean watched not only his friend's reaction to his touch but also the soft glow that seemed to fill the Mustang slowly at first then grew until it seemed to spread over them both and he kissed her again while praying his nosy little brother kept Bobby and that mystic distracted.

Back at the house, Sam was too busy trying to pick up and keep track of six very hyper little Yorkie puppies from Hell to pay attention to anything until he saw the way Jack MacShayne had tensed. Then he happened to glance out the window to spot the glowing lights flashing from the spot in the back lot that he new housed a certain Mustang and groaned.

"God, the images of this I could do without," he muttered, dropping a Yorkie to lunge for the door just before Jack got to it. "Leave 'em alone."

Having picked up the change in power alerted Jack that something was happening and he'd been about to go check it out when Sam stopped him. Starting to argue that he wasn't ready for new Angel attacks when he noticed the slight blush to the younger Winchester's cheeks and then groaned, slumping back onto the sofa while snapping his fingers to form several glowing round balls. "Shit, I could do without this," he groaned.

"Yeah, try being me since I have to deal with 'em," Sam replied, tossing a ball and wincing at a shout while hoping his brother knew what the hell he was doing.

**Later that evening:**

"Hmmm?" rubbing her eyes sleepily, Morgan shifted lightly and winced at the groan she got in return. "Sorry, luv," she murmured, opening her eyes to see that Dean's eyes were open and clear as he laid next to her in the rather cramped Mustang. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Morg," he'd been watching her for the last hour or so since she'd fallen to sleep after the lights had finally dimmed.

Dean had hoped Morgan would sleep undisturbed and had shielded her dreams much as he knew she would for him or Sam. He'd slept a little but was still too keyed up and cautious to give in to sleep without knowing he could protect them.

Rubbing a hand up her bare arm since he'd gotten her to discard the sweatshirt in favor of the sleeveless shirt she normally wore under it, he'd been able to watch the many cuts, burns and other wounds slowly begin to vanish under his hand.

He knew she'd still have some but hoped in time those would go away and only leave few if any scars but he'd concentrated hard on making the initials on her stomach go away since he didn't want her seeing those every time she looked in a mirror.

"We didn't do anything," she remarked, yawning but was mildly surprised to feel better than she had and noticed that her hands seemed stronger then she let out a surprised squeal when he shifted her under him.

"I wouldn't say we didn't do anything," Dean countered, smirking. "Probably did enough to give Sammy nightmares…or get me killed."

Slapping his shoulder without thinking, Morgan's eyes instantly went to look for the wound she knew was on his arm only to see nothing but a thin white line then refocused. "No, I mean…we didn't…you know what I mean, Dean," she argued, gasping at the touch of his lips on her ear. "You're distracting me, Winchester."

"That's the plan, babe," he laughed, then turned more serious because he did understand what she meant and didn't want her to misunderstand. "No, we didn't make love," he told her then was quick to go on while cupping her chin with his hand. "Not because I didn't want to but because neither of us were ready for that yet and because the first time I make love to you, it won't be in the back of a car…I just need to lose Sam and Bobby for a few hours."

Knowing how hard that would be made Dean roll his eyes but left that for another day as he gently kissed her neck and felt her giggle as his five o'clock shadow tickled her. "You know there are still things we need to talk about," he told her and felt her tense then relax as her fingers lightly ran up his bare back and he struggled not to let her distract him. "I'm not pushing but you know you can talk to me about things."

"You mean Jim," she sighed, knowing he'd want to know about this and still not sure if she was ready to talk about that part of her past yet. "Dean, I told Sam that I asked Jim not to tell anyone that he'd adopted me. He was a hunter and I knew how other hunters looked at me so to protect him and you guys I didn't want anyone to know what he was to me."

Shivering more now that the sun was beginning to set and the already cool air was getting cooler, Morgan was reaching for something when she felt familiar worn leather being wrapped around her as Dean had found his jacket. "I was a freak. You know how hunters react to me and that was before your Dad spread the word…plus…there was always the chance of something from that time coming back and I didn't want you, Sam or Jim pulled into it."

Considering that, Dean thought it through before remembering what Jim had said. "You think someone might come back from the coven after you or…"

"The fire that burned the bed and breakfast and killed my…killed those people was never solved so there was always the chance of someone finding me and bringing it back," she tightened at the thought but felt his fingers signing familiar words against her palm until she relaxed again and yawned. "I just wanted to forget it. I just wanted to keep you and Sammy safe and…Dean, did you mean what you said?" she asked suddenly, chewing her lip like he knew she did when worried.

"I've said a lot to you today…you just don't remember most of it since you were seeing stars," Dean grinned at her smirk then he leaned in to run his mouth over her throat until he heard a soft sound. "I love you, Morgan," he repeated quietly yet firmly as he caught both of her hands in his and saw the first sign of alarm when he stretched them above her. "Now, promise me you'll stay with me and Sam," he urged, knowing this would be a huge battle since she was used to watching over them from a distance. "Promise and I might let you tell Sam about Modesto."

"Oh, I plan on that, slick," Morgan countered, tensing against his hold but locked eyes the moment he grinned and knew what he planned. "I can fry you, Dean," she warned then swallowed as her eyes trailed to the way his muscles moved when he shifted to bring her up to him just as his cell phone went off. "Guess who."

Growling under his breath, Dean had to think where the hell he'd left the damn gadget then stretched to reach outside the car until he grabbed it and… "This vital or are you just trying to push my buttons, little brother?" he growled, but smiled to reassure Morgan that he wasn't angry with Sam then closed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just make up an excuse and we'll be back…soon," he hedged, hanging up with a laugh then growled again when his shirt hit him in the head. "Cute. You going to answer me?"

"Give me time, Dean," Morgan wasn't certain she could stay since she still knew the risks the boys ran if she was around them but this time was willing to consider it. "Dean…I…love…hey!" she shouted when he moved to swiftly scoop her up in his arms like he had once.

"Does that Sammy's not your favorite anymore?" he teased, willing to let the rest of his questions go for the moment since he knew if he didn't push for them that she'd tell him.

Laughing, Morgan's arms had wrapped automatically around his neck and she held on even when he set her down. "Oh, Sam'll always be my favorite, hotshot," she returned with a wicked smile as she pressed a kiss to his face. "You just have other…attributes that make me adore you."

"Well, we'll just have to find out what those are…later," he promised, pulling his shirt back on despite her low groan of protest. "Babe, if we go back to the house and I'm without a shirt it won't take Bobby long to pull that shotgun or a frying pan."

"I'll have a Hell Yorkie protect you," Morgan promised then laughed at his dark look, taking a moment to look at the hand he held out before taking it. "Are you alright?"

Was he alright? Dean honestly hadn't allowed himself to consider that for that past few hours but now that she asked he thought of it.

He knew he still had some problems because he didn't like to think of either her or his brother being hurt in any way but he had slowly come to understand that he couldn't take on all the blame for things he couldn't control…though that would take awhile to convince him of.

Dean had also noticed that many of his own wounds had lessened though he knew he still had some that would need dealing with, he let it go for the moment in favor of slipping his arm around Morgan for the walk back to the house while considering the rings in his pocket for a moment and the words of his alternate self.

"Yeah, I'm good, Morg," he finally assured her, pressing a kiss into her hair when they both heard a sound that neither had in a very long time. Sam's laughter, which was something Dean hadn't heard from his brother in a long while.

Clearing the junkyard to come around the front of the house, both Dean and Morgan were cautious but curious to see what was making the younger Winchester laugh so hard. Then both stopped dead. "Are you serious?" Dean blinked, positive that he wasn't seeing this because it was too weird to be believed. "Sammy?"

"In a minute, Dean…I'm…ugh…losing…" Sam called over his shoulder, as he seemed to be struggling with a heavy length of rope.

The sight of his laughing brother pulling on one end of the rope wasn't the hard to believe part. It was the sight of the six happily growling Hell Yorkies on the other end that was making Dean blink then groan when Sam was pulled down finally only to be jumped on by the little balls of fur.

"Dean! Get those fluffballs off your idjit brother before he pulls something and then you can tell me just what the hell you two were getting up to in my junkyard!" Bobby yelled from the porch where he was sitting with a smirking Jack while Castiel tried to understand what was happening.

"Guess telling him just working on the car won't work this time," Dean mumbled under his breath then smiled as Morgan ran a finger down his arm on her way to snag a Yorkie or two while Sam sat up, wiping his face. "Hey, Sammy…having fun?" he asked, holding out a hand to up his brother up while shooting him a warning look not to try what he was thinking.

Catching his breath, Sam was finally able to nod then he noticed something. His brother had been tense when he'd left the house…now Dean seemed relaxed and more at ease with not only himself but also… "So…can I adopt a Hell Yorkie, Dean?" he asked innocently, giving his best puppy dog look and was surprised when his brother just laughed.

"We'll talk Bobby into taking one then you can spoil it," Dean decided, figuring that would keep the older man busy when they weren't around to drive him nuts.

Noticing that Sam was still favoring his one arm made Dean frown when he suddenly found himself with an arm full of wiggling fur. "Hey!" he objected, still uneasy around even a small Hellhound but then a tongue licked his face and he sputtered. "What have I said about demon tongue?" he complained, hearing the laughter around him. "You two are gonna get it the first chance I get…"

"That's kinda what Morg said when she woke up…only she threatened you," Sam pointed out, taking a step toward the house since he knew he'd be taking off in a moment. "Though…I guess you guys hashed that out in the Mustang this…"

"Sammy," Morgan warned, feeling Dean's hand on her back and recognizing the words he signed. "Sam, want me to tell Dean about that sorority bash little Miss Malibu Barbie took you too junior year and…"

Groaning, Sam was in the house with a growling Dean following him while Bobby shook his head and complained about crazy idjits.

"Kel wants to know what the plans are," Jack caught his boss's eye before she entered the house and noticed that she didn't seem as tense or weak as she had earlier which made him remind himself to find out just how that link with Winchester worked.

Hearing a door slam and Sam's laughing complaints, Morgan paused with her hand on the knob before sighing. "Tell him we're here for the duration," she replied, meeting Bobby's eyes and saw him nod. "I'm staying with the boys."

"You're…" Jack blinked then groaned, knowing how that would be received and how bad that could be but stayed silent since he'd sensed Morgan's need and just hoped he could protect them as things got worse. "Ummm, Singer? You want some dogs?" he asked hopefully while wondering where the hell Ethan had gotten to.

**Elsewhere:**

"So, the Winchesters are still breathing free air, your boss is doing good and Zach got his arrogant ass trounced by…well, me…sort of and I handled that other little issue you mentioned. Are you happy now, Ethan?"

"I'll be happy when all this Apocalypse crap is over with and my family goes back to leaving the mortals to their own devices," Ethan MacShayne returned sourly, crossing his arms as he looked in the face of Lucifer with a scowl. "You can change forms now."

"Ah, still so serious. You get that from your Dad," Lucifer complained then scowled and snapped his fingers to allow his form to go blurry before returning to his true form with a smirk. "There, now give me my candy."

Tossing Gabriel a bag of mixed candy bites, Ethan rolled his eyes at his Trickster playing relative. "I don't approve that you're hiding out when you are one of the few Archangels who could actually help these boys but that's your choice," he declared, considering as he went to leave. "Michael and Lucifer will destroy this world if they gain their vessels and the moment my friend is harmed in this little war is the moment all bets are off and I call on the power that is my birthright. Think about it, Gabriel and do what you know is right because if this world burns…all of your fun burns along with it and then you're stuck with either Michael or Lucifer in charge. How much fun would that be?"

The Trickster playing Archangel shook his head before kicking the ground in restless frustration and vanishing but while still thinking of the future and his two favorite mortals. "Hell with it. Time to take chances, get messy and…probably get my butt zapped but first I need to fix something else."

**Present day, Singer Salvage, Upstairs:**

Smoothing a hand down Sam's unruly hair that had managed to go back into his eyes like he used to wear it, Dean Winchester squeezed the shoulder closest to him before tossing the towel he'd just dried off with back into the bathroom while reaching for his jeans.

Being careful to step over the pile of discarded clothes that Sam had pulled from the attic earlier to make a bed for the six Hell Yorkies who had decided to sleep in their room that night, Dean eased onto the edge of his own bed and finally let his mind go.

Hand fisting as he recalled the pain of the Angels torture room, he knew he'd probably always have issues with the events of recent days because even though he knew he could only carry so much guilt, there would always be some for what he caused.

A careful look in the mirror had given him an idea of the injuries he still had and while many of them had been dealt with earlier by Morgan's powers he still had some that would need care the old fashioned way. His biggest concern was for what his little brother was holding inside since he knew Sam had seen too much this time and when the kid fell it would be a chick flick moment to beat them all.

"…De'n?" a sleepy voice made him look over to see that Sam was watching him but only barely since he was half asleep. "Sorry…I took the car," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly before flopping onto his stomach like he would as a kid. "Don'…go…'kay?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Sammy," Dean promised, pulling the blanket up to cover his still in shock brother before setting back on his own bed with his back against the headboard when he smiled and lightly stroked his hand down the arm that had absently tossed itself around his waist. "You sleeping?"

A short silence before a murmured reply came then Morgan yawned. "Sammy okay?" she asked, still too weak to feel or heal for long periods yet.

"He's fine and so are you, my Angel," Dean replied, voice soft as he kept it when it was just them and he was trying to get them to sleep. "Love you," he whispered, smiling when he felt her response while drawing his jacket up over his sleeping friend while taking a final head count to be sure all six Hell dogs were present and accounted for then he closed his own eyes and was soon sleeping and oblivious to the shadow in the door.

"They're asleep," Castiel closed the door silently while meeting his younger nephew's gaze. "Zachariah is not done, Jack," he warned. "It's coming too close to the final meeting and he will pull out the stops to get what he wants."

Jack had been working overtime all night to reshield, respell, and put up new wards and sigals around the house, the yard, the lot of cars and even the goddamn Impala. He was going to make damn certain that bald arrogant jackass did not get this close again without his knowing it.

"I might not be able to stop him, Castiel but I can make it hard for him to do this crap again," he replied, wincing when he heard the shout and knew that Ethan was back and had surprised Bobby. "I should just piss Ethan off and let him wipe them all out."

"The girl could do just that at full power," Castiel commented, seeing Jack's shoulders tense. "You know that…"

Glancing back at the trench coat wearing Angel, Jack sighed but kept his face bland. "I know what Morgan can do…I also know that if she does face off with either Michael or Lucifer in a full out war of power that while it will save the Winchesters…it will kill Morgan," he stated firmly, hearing the phone ring but not picking up anything from it and so he went to kick his brother out. "That's our plan of last resort, Cas and I want it kept that way."

Castiel understood that but he wasn't sure it would be all that simple. Taking another look into the room, he disappeared in order to try to find his own way to help Dean beat this without losing anyone he loved.

Frustrated beyond words, Bobby Singer was not in a good mood. He'd been reassured by both mystic and Angel that the boys were safe for the moment. Dean had assured him, looked him right in the eye and promised him that he was fine and that nothing happened out in the lot earlier.

"Boy always could lie to me and think he got away with it," he muttered, content to leave it alone so long as he could keep those three kids within eyeshot even though he had a sinking feeling that Dean and Morgan would be making him pull what hair he had left out…not to mention Sam's attachment to the six Hell Yorkies that seemed to have moved in on him. "Idjits."

The phone call, however, didn't settle his nerves since it just reminded him of the things that he couldn't protect the Winchesters and their friend from.

Rufus Turner, a fellow hunter and long time friend, didn't call often and usually when he did it brought trouble hot to Bobby's door. This call threatened to bring more than trouble to Bobby's door as he groaned and recalled the reason for the call.

"'_Bobby, did Jim Murphy ever handle some case up in the Hudson valley?'" the black hunter asked without knowing the ice that formed in Bobby's veins. "'Would've been back in the early '80's_?'"

"Why you askin' about Jim's cases, you old fool?" Bobby demanded, praying he didn't get the reply he'd been hearing rumors of.

"'_I had a job up there last week and heard about this case way back when. Cult of Satan or some crap was working the area and I guess Jim burned one of their covens. Now with the Apocalypse looming, they're crawling outta the woodwork up here and I'm picking up rumors about Angels in the middle and some reporter was asking questions about…_'"

Scrubbing a tired hand over his eyes, Bobby took out an old leather bound journal that had belonged to Jim Murphy and had come his way after the man's death. Finding the passages he wanted, he once again read what Jim had wrote and also what he spoke between the lines and knew that if what Rufus was catching was legit then Dean and Sam might be running into more problems because as Dean liked to say…'Demons he got but people were just plain crazy' and nothing was crazier than a bunch of Satan loving crazies being used by either Angels or demons to get what they needed and he knew that if Morgan's past came back to haunt her that the boys would fight…no matter who was behind it.

"Goddamn crazy idjit kids will end me before the damn Apocalypse does," he decided, rolling out from behind his desk just as a furry head with a pink bow and red eyes poked its head out from the rails on the steps and he groaned. "I am not adopting you…no matter how much Sam uses those damn puppy dog eyes on me," he growled but knew he was done for when it rolled over for a belly scratch. "Balls."

The End…..?

**Author Note II: **_Well, it took longer than I expected with a lot more twists than planned but I can honestly say that Mirror Images is ended._

_Now that doesn't mean the series is over since Sam still needs to face Lucifer, maybe fall in a hole and who knows…maybe even lose a soul._

_I appreciate everyone who has read this one and how patiently you've waited in between updates since I got delayed due to health and personal issues so again, thank you and thanks for the reviews. They always mean so much._

_So if you want this series to go on (don't worry, I have regular stories planned and a couple more in my Not My Sammy series too) let me know. Thanks and enjoy!_


	21. Chapter 21

**Mirror Images**

**Author Note: **_Okay, so I had to add one final chapter to give our alternate 'Dean' an ending. I'll be honest and say I'm a little iffy on this and say I think I'm planning a short solo story that's an alternate ending with a bit more detail (I know I can be a be OCD with some things but I actually like this guy) so I hope any readers who enjoyed alternate 'Dean' will stay tuned for his short little one-shot._

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**A time and reality away in 2014:**

Having dealt with a world gone mad after the Apocalypse started, the survivors had handled most of the rest of the human population getting infected with the Croatoan virus and while those brave enough battled to find a cure, the rest slowly were forced to accept their fate.

Or so it was until the morning when the sun dawned on a day bright with sunshine, birds singing in the fall trees and not a sign of a single zombie anywhere.

The world's survivors took it as a sign from God while others wondered what else might have happened.

For one man, waking up with a splitting headache, a stomach that felt worse than the time he'd drunk himself into a two week stupor and a body that felt like he'd been pulled through the back end of twister, 'Dean Winchester' groaned and wondered how he could be dead and in agony

"Good morning, sunshine!" an all too familiar and way too cheerful tone greeted, causing the rough around the edges hunter to snarl. "Dean, baby, booby, is that any way to greet your favorite Trickster?"

"Get out of my head!" 'Dean' snarled then felt like puking his lungs up as he rolled to his knees and proceeded to do just that before managing a bleary look up. "I'm dead, so what are you? My version of Hell this week?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes while kneeling down to clap a hand on the suddenly all too thin shoulder. "Nope, but then what makes you think you're dead, bunky?" he countered, standing easily to turn in circles with his arms spread wide. "Open those cold green eyes. Take a breath, smell the roses, see the sunshine for the first time in…okay, no clue but take a look, kiddo."

Staring in surprise as his eyes finally cleared, 'Dean' was forced to shield his eyes from the brilliant sun that he hadn't seen in his own time in more years than he cared to think about. "How…why?" he stared around in confusion when it finally began to sink in where he was. "Gabe…what the hell is this?"

"I have very annoying nephews who actually didn't think you deserved the crap that Zachy-poo laid on you both here or there so…" Gabriel grinned while blowing a pink bubble. "Consider this your second chance, kiddo. The world's safe, no zombies eating the citizens, no Big A hanging over your head. Just a big normal world back with the normal monsters, ghosts, ghoulies and whatever the hell else you hunted."

Shocked at the very thought that he was still alive was one thing, then it sank in where he was standing and something seemed to break inside him. "Normal?" he repeated softly, then looked down in surprise to see the sun glinting off the gold band on his left hand when he knew he'd given it to his younger self. "Normal's good for the rest of them but…my normal is still shot to hell without…"

"God but you are so dense sometimes," the joke loving Angel in hiding rolled his eyes while clapping his hand on the hunter's shoulder. "Kid, I said this was your second chance. Trust me, go with it and…have I ever mentioned how intense that little brother of yours can be?" he grinned while looking at something over 'Dean's' shoulder. "Don't blow it this time, huh? Now I have to go and save your other self…and some Yorkies."

With that Gabriel vanished leaving 'Dean' to stare at the outside of the last home he'd known. Bobby's place in South Dakota but as he looked around, he noticed the differences. The yard wasn't as cluttered, the broken fence had been fixed and he swallowed as he bent to touch the small baby swing that he could remember fighting to put together. Though he also remembered burning the thing, along with nearly everything else he could get his hands on when…

"Second chances, Dean. Remember when we both dreamed of them?"

The voice had 'Dean' freezing for just a moment before he forced himself to turn back to the front porch to see what he hadn't allowed himself to hope for, even with all of Zachariah's lies.

'Sam Winchester' stepped onto the porch to silently watch his obviously stunned older brother while struggling to find the words that seemed to stick in his throat until finally… "Hey."

Long ago learned caution made trusting this hard but a piece of 'Dean' told him that this was real, this was his home and this was… "Sam," he murmured, losing track of anything else as he crossed the yard and the brothers met on the porch that had also seen them tore apart.

As 'Dean' looked, he noticed too long hair that was flopping back into hazel eyes that reminded him of years ago when neither of them had the issues they ended up with. 'Sam' was dressed like he always liked to be, jeans and today to handle the cool air a worn out hoodie.

What drew 'Dean's' attention though was the black rubber like band his younger brother wore on his wrist then he swallowed when their eyes met fully and he took a chance. "Sammy," this time when he reached out, he caught the caution in the younger man but then felt the near desperation and relief in 'Sam' when he met his brother's hug fully and 'Dean' closed his eyes to cover the sudden burning. "God…Sammy," he whispered tightly, holding this embrace for a long moment before easing the kid back so he could look at him fully. "How? Is this…"

"Real? Yeah, it took me some time to figure that out too," 'Sam' smiled, head cocking back to the house as he heard a sound that made his eyes light up. "I'm not sure why or who but I woke back up here after being in that place with you and…" he paused to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder before moving to one side. "I wasn't alone."

"What?" 'Dean' blinked then followed 'Sam's' gaze past the open door to find himself looking into bright blue eyes that made his heart leap into his throat. "Morg?" he whispered, too numb to move and scared that this would all vanish if he moved or touched.

"Dean," 'Morgan Harrison-Winchester' had accepted the explanation of the Angel, or at least she had after she'd tried to burn him out of her home, then it was just a matter of accepting the rest of it. Now as she stepped from the house onto the porch, she stopped just out of reach. "It's real, luv," she told him quietly, nodding. "Sammy's home…and so are you."

'Sam' cleared his throat before stepping into the house. "I'll just leave you two alone," he declared, looking back with a smile. "You didn't give up, Dean. There are happy endings…even for us."

Listening to the porch door swing shut, the bang of it had 'Dean' snapping back to lock eyes with the woman he'd loved, married, and lost. Looking at her now, he could still smell the scent of strawberries and roses that he knew would be on her hair and skin.

Her auburn hair was longer than it had been the last time they'd been together in this house and while her eyes were missing the shadows he'd put there toward the end, he knew on instinct that she remembered. The light colored sweater and denim jeans reminded him of every curve that he'd once known by heart and with a groan, he finally reached out only to have her meet his grasp halfway.

"Morgan," he whispered, arms locking tight around her while feeling her tears brush on his face as she buried her face against his neck. "This is real, it's honest to God real. Not a trick or…"

"No, luv. It's all real," she assured him after a long moment, then gasped at his kiss as it was of long lost passion and buried emotion.

Holding his wife in his arms for the first time in years, 'Dean' offered thanks to anyone who would listen then he slowly set her on her feet to look at her fully then at the house. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned until her heard her soft laugh.

"I have you and Sammy, silly," she replied, hearing Sam coming back and she took 'Dean's' hand in both of hers to bring it up close to her heart. "I have our family so yeah, it's all good but…" she paused to draw a breath. "There is someone who need to meet."

Frowning, 'Dean' looked down curiously then up as he heard his brother came back to the door. "What're you…" he stopped in mid-sentence when he caught his gaze trapped in the bright blue-green eyes of the happily gurgling child squirming in his clearly uneasy Uncle's arms. "Oh my God," he breathed, eyes looking quickly from the baby to 'Morgan' before swallowing. "Is…this…he should be…"

"Samuel John Robert Winchester, meet your Daddy," 'Morgan' murmured as she took the now laughing baby from a relieved 'Sam' to look up at her dazed husband. "He's real too, Dean," she whispered, voice breaking a little as she still cried at the memory of waking up with her infant son in her arms in the bed upstairs. "When things changed or were fixed, they gave him back to us like he was before it all went bad."

Lightly touching his son's soft cheek, he couldn't stop the watery laugh when his finger was grabbed in strong baby fingers only to be sucked on. "He does the same thing you used to do," he told his brother then looked up with his first genuine smile in a long time. "Second chance, huh?"

"You deserve it," 'Sam' replied, stepping back before he got baby duty again but wasn't fast enough to avoid his brother's grasp when 'Dean' swung an arm around his shoulders to pull him in close then drew 'Morgan' in much more gently since she was holding the baby.

"We deserve it, baby brother," he corrected in a husky tone, knowing he'd have time to break when he and Morgan were alone but for the moment he just wanted to hold onto this. "Sammy, I'm so sor…"

'Sam' shook his head while meeting his sister-in-law's eyes. "You did what they knew you would, Dean," he shrugged. "I knew that and it's over. I woke up with nothing, no demon blood, no powers, no voices. I'm just Sam Winchester now…is that good enough?"

Understanding what he was being asked, 'Dean' merely tightened the grip on his brother's neck. "That's always been good enough, Sammy," he replied then looked down at his wife and son. "Can I…" he blinked when he suddenly had his son in his arms and still a small part of him thought back to the time and place he'd left, hoping that they could still have this.

"They'll be fine, luv," 'Morgan' promised, certain of this as she shot Sam a look that he recognized as the usual signal for him to lose himself as she pulled 'Dean' to the swing so he could sit with the baby. "That world's you is just as bloody stubborn as you to settle for anything less."

"Gee, thanks babe," he snorted then gave up the act and let the first crack show as he cradled his infant son in one arm while allowing his wife to curl under the other. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, pushing the swing into motion when a stern voice calling his brother an 'idjit' was heard and he let himself relax back into his world while silently hoping his younger self could survive. 'Good luck, kid,' he thought then nodded as 'Morgan' asked if he wanted to go inside.

As the door closed on this now complete and happy family, a curly haired, candy munching Angel wished it would be that simple for the real world's counterparts since he knew or suspected what else his relatives had in store for them.

The End for real….maybe

**Author Note II: **_Stay tuned for a possible alternate ending/1-shot for Alternate Dean titled ' Welcome Home, Dean Winchester'. Thanks again for reading and reviewing._


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